The Void That Cries Through You
by BleedinRosez3928
Summary: "Spencer looked up at Aaron, almost like small child would to his father. Brown eyes reflecting pain and misery. The plump bottom lip quivered before Spencer broke down in Aaron's arms." Dr. Spencer Reid is in misery. The question is why? Aaron/Spencer pastDerek/dark Spencer, pastX/Spencer WARNING: drugs/alcohol, M-rated sex, language, bashing, etc. Bring tissues and Review please
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note: !Warning! There will be slight Derek Morgan bashing in  
this fanfiction (fans don't kill me because I love him too) And a darker Spencer, some stuff he wouldn't do, like drink or eat fatty foods.**

Disclaimer: Of course I don't own any of these characters, expect for like side people and crap and the lyrics belong to Billy Corgan

**"The Void That Cries Through You" is a story named after the lyric in "The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning" by Smashing Pumpkins. Lyrics from their songs will appear throughout the story.**

**Summary: ****"Spencer looked up at Aaron, almost like small child would to his father. Brown eyes reflecting pain and misery. The plump bottom lip quivered before Spencer broke down in Aaron's arms.****" Dr. Spencer Reid is in misery. The question is why?**

_**Will Be Starring (sooner or later)**_

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Jennifer (J.J.) Jareau

Penelope Garcia

Emily Prentiss

David Rossi

Aaron Hotchner

Jack  
_**Special Guests**_

Morgan's mother and sisters

Spencer's mother

_**Chapter 1**_

_**Send a heartbeat to, The void that cries through you, Relive the pictures that have come to pass...**__  
_

To say the once adored, smart, clueless, innocent, and lovable Dr. Spencer Reid, Pretty Boy, was no longer...himself, was an understatement. For the past two weeks he was on his ass. Drowning in self misery with a bottle of vodka. The intense burn at the back of his throat wasn't stopping him from submitting to the liquid. Sometimes his skin would be scratched raw and red with his growing nails, yellow and dirty. He wore nothing, but sweatpants with holes. His long, curly brown hair was becoming greasy from neglecting to wash it. Ear buds in his ear, his IPod in his pocket, same song on repeat, like him. Drink, eat, drink-burger rappers and beer cans littered around him-Aaron was gonna kill him.

He had been living with his chief and his son, Jack, for a good three months; his wife was gone so Aaron said he needed the company. He was now on a business trip and Jack was visiting his aunt. Sure, he felt bad for trashing his house, he felt bad for whining, he was sorry for throwing himself onto Aaron's shoulders; yet, he didn't apologize, he would only do it again. Aaron was close to snapping and throwing him out like the piece of shit he had become.

_**For now we stand alone, The world is lost and blown, And we are flesh and blood disintegrate, With no more to hate...**_

Alone. That's all he wanted to be. He ran his fingers through his hair, groaning at the stringy texture then wiped the surplus grime and oil on his gray sweats. His phone vibrated again. It was the 20th text message from J.J., she was like a sister to him, but he didn't want to burden her. As he turned his phone off he walked into the bathroom. The hollows under his eyes darken from only getting a few hours of sleep (damn insomnia), lips cracked with dried blood, his skin paler. The glow was gone.

His lips drew back into a snarl. What was he looking at? Flashbacks from a few months ago slapped him in the face-

"Spencer!"  
"I-I'm in here," his voice a bit over a whisper, dry and raw.

He kept staring at himself and his friend came into view: Dark, wild hair with a smile on his face. The smile faded as he took in the small frame, arms shaking as they steadied him against the sink. Warmth engulfed Spencer from behind.

"You need sleep, Reid."

"I'm fine."

"No. You're not. You've become a hermit in my home."

Spencer turned on his heels, arms folded.

"Would it make you happy if I left?"

"No...Spencer you can't just wallow around in your own misery."

"I can and I will."

"I'm not gonna watch you kill yourself-"

"Then go!"  
Aaron rolled his eyes and walked out the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

Spencer grumbled as splashed water on his face.

He returned to his "home" and took a swig of his bottle.

"Hey."

"What?"  
"Are you hungry?"  
"No."

A sigh. It was expected. If Spencer was to walk outside (which he hasn't done for a month,) people would think he was Death himself. Skin and bones. His ribs and spine were becoming more and more pronounced, the skin would stretch and slide across the bone, and leave marks behind.

"You need to eat."  
Spencer waved around his bottle; Aaron removed the "addiction" from him.

"That's not food."  
"What the heck, Aaron. Why can't you just leave me alone?"  
"Maybe because you're in MY house! You haven't bathed in two weeks!"  
The shorter male only shrugged.

"You're messed up, Spencer."

Another shrug.

Aaron was hanging on his last nerve. He wanted to give up. He didn't even know WHY Spencer was acting this way...

It was during the final case for the team. Three little boys were snatched from their home in the middle of the night. Two of them, Tommy Gross, 10 years old and Ben Turner, 8 years old were found in shallow graves, lips sewn shut, and hands crossed over their chests. Both were clean and trimmed. Which led the team to believe that it was a pedophile, not on the record. He would most likely be hiding his sexuality from his family and as he had been for many years and would most likely have close ties with the families of these boys. In the end, it was a neighbor, Richard Thompson, who lived a few doors down from the boys home. He had hidden his sexuality for so long that he snapped. He had married, had two kids, and was a school teacher, but "I couldn't suppress my desires. You see, I am unclean, unholy, I cannot be cleaned so I relish in my sins."

He had kept the boys in a tree trunk in his backyard, hidden in plain sight. They had two buckets in which to pee and wash and were given bread and water. Most of the time, they were sexually, mentally, and emotionally abused. Grayson Jones, 11 years old, was found passed out on some blankets with multiple cuts, bruises, and bone injuries.

This crime had affected the entire team. Mostly, Derek Morgan because of his familiarity with a sicko like Richard Thompson. It took all his will not to bet the crap out of him. He sat, alone, far back in the plane.

The rain making a pitter patter sound against the windows. Aaron was just getting off the phone with his son, telling him he would see him in the afternoon and that he would take him to the zoo. J.J. and Prentiss were asleep. David was replying to letters about his new book. Aaron, half asleep, placed his palm against the glass, a shiver coursed down his spine at the icy temperature.

That's when soft, intense whispers rung in Aaron's ears. Maybe it the case that was making him hear things, his attention blurred. He strained his ears to hear...SOMETHING. Then it got quiet. He shrugged it off and dozed off.

When they all got back to headquarters they packed their stuff to head home for a more comfortable, peaceful nice rest. Aaron turned off the lights and headed out to his car. That's when he heard someone…crying? He put his suitcase and folders in the car and put on his hood. It was still raining. A shadow was huddled in the rain, violently shivering.

"Spencer?" He yelled through the rain. He sat beside the young man on the porch in front of a nearby coffee shop.

A face clear of blemishes, but eyes swelled and red, hair sticking to his face, his skinny frame hugged in wet clothes.

Spencer gave a small smile. His frown deepening as Spencer took in a shaky breath. Multiple questions were ringing in his head, but he held them off for now.

"W-w-what are y-you d-doing he-re?"

"I could ask you the same."

A shrug was all he got.

Aaron put an arm around his waist to keep him warm. The man was sure to get a cold.

"Are you okay?"  
Spencer looked up at Aaron, almost like small child would to his father. Brown eyes reflecting pain and misery. The plump bottom lip quivered before Spencer broke down in Aaron's arms. Aaron shushed him with soothing sounds and fingers stroking his scalp before he pressed a soft kiss to his cold forehead.

Two days later Spencer was at his door with a few bags. The first words out of his mouth were.

"Can I stay with you?"  
"W-w...hold on." Aaron pulled him inside and folded his arms, "Why, don't you have a place?"

Jack, meanwhile, was running up to the genius, arms outstretched, exclaiming "Yeah, I'll have someone to play with! Daddy, is he staying with us?"

"I got evicted from my apartment. Can I stay or not?"

Aaron rubbed his fingers through his hair. Why did things have to get so complicated?

"Fine. There is a spare room to your right-oof!"

"Thanks." Spencer's words were muffled by his shirt, arms wrapped around his middle. He looked so damn cute. He was like a puppy.

"Sure."

Meanwhile Derek wouldn't answer Aaron's calls. He wasn't answering ANYONE'S calls for that matter, but Spencer didn't seem too shaken up about it. Aaron figured it was because he knew Derek the best and figured it was just his way. Derek was still off doing the things he usually did, drinking, dancing, partying, etc. Yet Spencer was sinking further into despair. Sometimes Aaron would hear Spencer cry out in the middle of the night as his subconscious made him relive the nights his mother had to be taken away, the crude and ignorant words of serial killers, and butchered children. Sometimes tears would crawl their way from beneath Aaron's eyelids.

Sometimes, even Jack would wake up, stuffed dog in hand as he cried.

"Daddy, why is Uncle Spencer so sad?"

Aaron would pick him up and hold him as they sat on the couch, waiting for the anguish to stop.

"Don't worry Jack, he'll be fine. I promise."

Jack would cry himself to sleep and be put back into his bed with a kiss to the forehead. The screams would cease.

Aaron would sometimes check on Spencer, too, curled up in a tight ball, blankets kicked to the end of the bed, and pages of books, ripped and balled would be strewn across the room. Aaron would bit back the lump in his throat.

The next day Spencer would be a walking coffin.

_**Is it bright where you are, And have the people changed**_

Derek's distance from Spencer seemed to only get wider. The New Year was only a few weeks away, but Spencer was still stuck on the same year, same, month, same night...and the same man.

**Author Note: Oh my god, I'm crying and I'm the one writing this! Why am I torturing myself? *blows nose in tissue* Well, this is chapter one. Reviews would be very much appreciated.**

**Teaser**

"**Just drop it!"**

"**Not until you tell me!"  
"There's nothing to tell!"**

**He slid down the wall next to his bed, the throbbing on his arms and the headache burned numb.  
"Spencer..." The elder sat in front of him and as he stared at their intertwined fingers his breathe hitched and his heart ached. His vision was blurring,**

"**Please...I want to help you. You're like my baby brother and I'm not gonna let you do this on your own."**

**The silence stretched on and a few moments later, he pulled his hands away, wrapped himself with his own embrace.**

"**I-w-we...Derek and I had a...fling." Spencer's exhale shuddered as the memories came back.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note: Introducing….(drum roll)…Chapter 2! I'm really proud of this Chapter. It's segments of Spencer and his memories. M-rated sex scene.**

**I appreciate the reviews, favs, follows:**

**Thanks to: **

**Tessalationx13**

**ImmortalMonkeyX**

**Sakelly**

**antigone21**

**fantomax27**

**geritom**

**gublerette**

**maryhell**

**You all are great! Enjoy the update!**

_**Chapter 2**_

When he woke up he found himself in a bed and something warm, firm, and **alive **against his back. He squinted through the blinding light beating against his face and slowly tried to wiggle from underneath the sheets. A strong grip only pulled him further into the center of the bed.

"Stop moving."

Spencer froze.

No. Fucking. Way.

His head was spinning. He was drunk and was in a hangover and hallucinating. A fucked up dream that's what it was. While he was beating his brain to figure out what was happening he could feel the other occupant's chuckle at the nape of his neck.

"Stop thinking so hard."

Spencer was pissed now as he tossed the sheets off himself and standing up, only to fall at the intense white pain up his ass.

"Aw, crap!"

Chocolate eyes peered at him. Heat traveled from his neck to his ears. He felt...violated? Sure as hell confused. That laugh was driving him crazy, too. Muscular legs swung over the bed and a hand reached out towards him.

"Come on Pretty Boy."  
Spencer bit his lip. He didn't know whether to trust that this was happening. He beat down Mr. Wuss into his grave and took the offer.

He was being stared at. Again. He was in Derek's kitchen, eating Derek's Coco Puffs, and in Derek's football jersey, (because Spencer didn't bring spare clothes.) and it was hanging off of his shoulders. He decided that maybe putting a box in front of him, pretending to read the short cartoon comics, would make the intensity go away. But he knew, if possible the stare would burn a hole right through. He tipped off the box and stared back.

"Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?"  
Spencer's eyebrows furrowed. "Why do keep staring at me?"  
Derek smirked then took Spencer's and his own empty bowl and placed them in the sink on the other side of the kitchen. As Derek walked back he stated, quite simply:  
"You're cute."  
Spencer rolled his eyes. Derek only laughed and pulled his Pretty Boy from the chair. His face turned serious, eyes glazed over with lust, burning the memory in Spencer's head.

"Did anyone tell you that wearing nothing but a football is fucking sexy?"  
Spencer gulped. The air became thick. His toes twitched as he took the man—god, that was Derek Morgan.

"I-uh...um, c-can I use your shower?"  
Derek nodded.

Spencer didn't have to think twice to know that Derek was following him with his eyes.

It was cold and dark in the room. He wanted it that way. His cell phone was long forgotten on the floor, but his hand was still shaking, he could still hear his mother sobbing on the other line. He wanted to be alone. But he didn't. He couldn't...he couldn't worry yet. His mother was strong and it wasn't new for her to get emotional.

She was sick. She would never get better. So, he stuck to childhood memories. He would remember the times when she would read him stories of Greek mythology. But he still felt guilty. He put his mother in the asylum. He sent her to her prison.

That's when the tears would slip past his clenched eyelids.

A knock at the door.

"Spencer." The soft voice broke through the maddening silence, "Pretty Boy, please...open he door?"  
Spencer slowly got up and unlocked the door. Derek's face had concern written all over it.

Derek closed the door and flicked on the lights. The room was practically empty expect for the couch in the corner and Spencer's phone in the middle of the floor.

"Derek, if you're in here to talk to me about-I can't."  
Derek shook his head, "You don't have to say anything."  
He was fucking **scared**. They both knew that he needed time to himself. Just a few days. He needed to be away from the piles of cases and coffee (that was filled with mostly sugar).

But he didn't want to leave the team alone.

He wanted to help.

The tears continued and Derek was there to hold him. Spencer wasn't one too cry often. He didn't want his friends to think he was weak.

He was tired and just wanted the headaches to stop. But Derek was holding him. For two hours he comforted him, with gentle kisses to his temple and massaging fingers in his hair. Only then, the tears and headaches stopped.

Jack was home from his Aunt's. Christmas presents in hand and a star to put of top of the Christmas tree. Aaron had to force Spencer into looking at least half presentable, but Spencer was still huddled in the corner, with his coffee, clean and covered in clothes to hide his vile body condition. As Jack sat eating Aaron's famous grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup, he noticed Uncle Spencer wasn't joining them at the kitchen table. He slowly got out the chair and walked over to the corner and tapped his knee.

"Uncle Spencer? Aren't you hungry?"

Spencer smiled softly and pulled him into his lap.

"I'm sorry Jack. I'm not feeling to well. We can play chess later if you want?"  
"Okay. Promise to feel better?"  
"Cross my heart." Putting his word into action against his chest where his heart was. He smiled and went back to eat.

Aaron had a frown on his face.

"Aaron, I can't come over. I'm busy."

"Please. He won't listen to me."

Aaron stared at the closed room door that contained a depressed man.

"**Please**."  
A sigh drifted in the phone.

"Alright. Give me 10."

"Thank you."

Now he had to wait.

'knock' 'knock'

"Spencer, open the door."  
"Fuck off."

The shorter male of the two men outside the door stood shcoked as he casted a worried glance to the other.

"He's been in there for three hours straight." The other shrugged.  
"Come on Spencer-"

"No! And why did you bring him here, Aaron?"  
"He just wants to help! You're pushing everyone away and I'm sick of it! Now, open the door." Aaron banged on the door and tried to get it open.

"Hey, hey, clam down Aaron."  
The other pulled him away and shooed him off with a wave of his hand.

"Spencer? It's just you and me."  
He heard a shuffle behind the door until it opened a crack. A wet red, brown eye bore into his soul. The kid was in pain. He was gonna kill Derek.

"Just drop it!"  
"Not until you tell me what's wrong!"  
"There's nothing to tell!"  
He slid down the wall next to his bed, the throbbing on his arms, signaling the need for something, anything to take away the headache that was burning him numb.  
"Spencer..." The elder sat in front of him and as he stared at their intertwined fingers his breathe hitched and his heart ached. His vision was blurring.  
"Please...I want to help you. You'll like my baby brother and I'm not gonna watch you do this on your own."  
The silence stretched on and a few moments later, he pulled his hands away, wrapped himself with his own embrace.  
"I-w-we...Derek and I had a...fling," Spencer's exhale shuddered as the memories came back, "It wasn't supposed to be just a fling." He choked out a sob as he laughed, "Being the weak ass I fell for him David! I really thought- really thought he loved me! And I'm still a fool because every fucking night I dream about him. It wasn't supposed to be like this!" Spencer was shaking as he sunk deeper into his agony. His ribs ached and his veins were going to burst.

David was shocked. He always knew that Spencer and Derek shared something. They were closer.

Despite, the dangers of having a relationship within the team, David couldn't be mad. Derek was all Spencer had in his personal life. They kid had been hurt enough. Losing his mother, Diana, to her own mind and hallucinations; the fear of the same fate, and facing childhood tragedies of humiliation and being picked on for his brain.

David was **pissed**.

But he knew that Spencer needed him.

"Spencer...when did it start."

Spencer exhaled another breath of acid as he closed his eyes and back tracked to the night club, the day he wore his heart on his sleeve. A comforting squeeze on the shoulder told him it was going to be okay.

"Why are you wearing a pink boa around your neck?" asked the bubbly tech.

Spencer shrugged, "The bartender was giving out a lot."

"It looks good," she smiled and sipped her martini. The two friends observed the swarm of people in spots of the club. Men and women grinding and unified. Sweat, lasers, alcohol, and rock/pop music all laid out in the club. All misfits and it didn't matter what sexual orientation you were, it was all about being human, together.

A guy walked by and winked at Spencer.

"Oh my GOD! He was checking you out. You should talk to him."  
Spencer shook his head.

"Fifty five percent of males are more aggressive when their drunk and thirty-two percent are experimenting and-"  
Penelope sighed, "Hun, enjoy yourself. Forget statistics for tonight. Please?"

Spencer bit his lip. The lasers flashed violently across the dance floor. He saw J.J. and Prentiss grinding up on Derek. The man looked…good. He had taken off his sweater, leaving him just in a white T-shirt and it was already soaked through with sweat. Spencer's eyes followed a particular drop of sweat from his brow, to his chin and disappearing under the shirt. He was screwed.

"Garcia-?"

The blonde was suddenly gone from Spencer's side, panic set in. He wasn't used to going to these types of clubs; I mean he was 29, but apparently feminine. He was getting stares from men and women, but he felt out of place.

He searched for exits, squeezing through sweat sheen bodies. He only got 5 meters towards the main exit when a hand grabbed him, he DID NOT squeak.

"Hey, Pretty Boy."

Spencer let out a sigh of relief. It was only Derek.

He seemed content and worked. His breathing was uneven and he was grinning like a madman. He was in his own world. Unlike Spencer-

"Hey Spencer, I saw you heading towards the exit. The party's this way."

He smiled and pulled on Spencer's boa, drawing him back into the masses of bodies.

"I-I can't. Look Derek I just...I don't belong here."  
Derek's head tilted to the side then bit his lower lip. The brunette fidgeted with the purple feathers around his neck.

"Spencer, dance with me."

Spencer's head snapped up.

"W-w..."

"Dance. With. Me. You're not leaving, I want my best friend to enjoy himself." Derek dragged him towards the center and grabbed him by the hips and moved the mechanical body from side to side. Spencer just pouted and folded his arms.

"Spencer, don't be an ass."

"I'm a terrible dancer."

"Here, this will help you lighten up." Derek gave Spencer a martini.

"Der-?"

"Go on."

He hesitantly looked at it and sucked it down.

Two hours of nonstop drinking and dancing. Sweaty and drunk out of their minds, both men had drifted to the empty plush couches in the corner. Derek's eyes changed to a darker shade and a film of alcohol covered them. His cheeks flushed and hair matted on his head. He looked kind of hot, Derek chuckled. Did he say that out loud? He shrugged it off, taking a sip of another beer (his fifth to be exact). Derek was staring at him. He pupils dilated and the tip of his tongue slipped out to skim over his lips. Spencer lips made a suction sound; his lips were drawing around the neck. He was feeling tight and confined in his clothes. The heat was intense.

"S-Spencer?"

The brunette casted a worried glance his way.  
"We should go. I don't want you getting too drunk."

"I'm not a child." Spencer pouted.

Derek found himself leaning in closer and he couldn't decipher the flame that flashes then disappears from Spencer's eyes.

"Derek."

Lips. Soft. Perfect.

One word terms is what Derek's vocabulary is cut down to. Spencer is straddling his lap, on his scalp and nails dragging. Pause. Both pull apart. Pants and heavy breathing. The air is getting thicker and Derek's fingers are just barely touching the skin underneath Spencer's shirt. Heartbeats mingling and shivers race down Spencer's spine as Derek's lips brush his ear.

"I'm...damn, I'm sorry," Derek drops his head to Spencer's chest. He tasted like alcohol and a hint of coffee.  
Spencer chuckles as he runs his fingers down the nape of his neck, "For what?"  
Derek grasped the frail hands, calloused fingertips, staring him in the eyes. Brown reflecting brown.

"I want you, but I don't want this," pausing to motion between them, "to happen without your consent-"

Spencer pulled him into a hungry kiss. The deal was sealed. Both too wrapped up in each other to realize a potential audience. The music passed their ears, only satisfied with their own music. Derek slipped his fingers in jeans and squeezed Spencer's ass forward as he angled his hips, drawing out a gasp from his partner, while attacking the pale neck and jaw line with nibbles and licks. Derek tongue was a sin.

"Derek."  
Derek felt his name vibrate off the skin his was feasting on. He was intoxicated with heareing his name.

"Derek...Haha..."

Derek smirked and kissed Spencer's temple, spreading his legs, a moan dripped from the other's lips as the connection was lost.

"You wanna go back to my place?"  
Spencer just nodded. As the stumbled to the exit, someone pulled Spencer back.

"What the -"

It was only J.J., the other girls were behind her. She was taking in a disheveled Spencer, lips swollen red, and hair in disarray. She gave a knowing smirk, but had to ask:

"Spencer, where are you headed to?"  
"D-Derek is taking me home."  
"Oh." she wiggled her eyebrows and the Spencers face turned red.

"J.J.!"

J.J. leaned closer to his ear.  
"Have fun, kid. Text me the details tomorrow."

Then she laughed. Spencer rolled her eyes and handed his car keys, "Here. I'll come to pick them up tomorrow."  
"Kay kay. Have fun." she made kissy sounds and as Spencer left.

A look. Who started it was uncertain. A look that turned into a touch, then a sloppy kiss, but it felt good. The hazy feeling at the back of Spencer's head, his brain going haywire with every plunge of Derek's wicked appendage. He just wished he didn't have the guts to pull away. He did, but Derek just latched onto his neck, leaving love bites in its wake.

"W-wait...uh...maybe-we should th-think-" He was starting to second guess everything. The "what if's" starting. He wasn't the one to hop into bed with just anyone, he only had one serious relationship and…well that didn't work out so well. All Spencer heard was a mumble so he pulled Derek's head up.

"What?"

Derek was silent, gnawing on his bottom lip. His eyebrows drawn in and he was doing that searching thing with his eyes. Almost a pleading look.

"I said, what is there to think about?"

"Derek-"

His words were cut off with teeth, tongue, and lips.

He was backed into a cold wall. When the hell did he lose his vest and shirt? He was pushed up the wall, legs voluntarily finding their home around Derek hips as they rocked. Spencer was humming something, a small, tiny harmony that resonated with Derek. The man was beautiful. Cold hands pressed into his back; next thing Spencer knew he was laid on a king sized bed, covered in black satin sheets, the room was darkened, expect the moon lit up the important structures, the dresser, mirror, a desk littered with papers crumbled and folded, and what looked to be mail on top of a laptop. He felt...at home. He was now sharing a space with Derek that many shared, but he figured this was different, he was different.

As he stared up, he was greeted with a genuine smile.

Nervous, anxious, and anticipating the next move. Derek kissed his forehead and then his lips. Gentle, as if Spencer would break into pieces if he dropped him. His eyes fluttered shut as the trail continued then a searing, wet heat enveloped his sex and-

"UH!-fuck!"  
The quick change in the moment was too much. His back arching, eyes rolling to the back of his head as the torture continued-slow...and steady. His was biting his lips so hard; he could taste metallic, copper. The pleasure was white hot as he struggled to stay above water, gasping and uncontrollably moaning underneath the dominant. In the pit of his stomach-it was stirring, approaching to an explosion.

"Ah...shit, shit, shit, shit..."  
Derek pulled off. He was going to KILL HIM. Why did he stop?

"Derek." The sound was between a gasp and a sob. He had come to the realization that Derek was already a step ahead, two fingers knuckle deep in his passage.

"Shh...relax..."

"...okay..."

The coursing pleasure ended and he felt empty and cold, but only for a few moments, a wet sound, then a snap. He opened his eyes, staring up at Derek.

"Hey." Derek smiled.

"Hi."

Spencer steadied himself on his elbows, a few inches from each other, breathing the same oxygen. The brunette's tongue poked out then flicked Derek's upper lip. A deep growl rumbled within the other's chest and he plunged himself into Spencer as he captured his lips. _My god, he's so big_.

The amount of emotions and senses that went through him had him writhing and grasping onto the body above him as an anchor: pain, pleasure, excitement, anxiety...love. And that was what scared him the most. But each thrust blocked his thoughts as he was pulled into bliss. Each slap of skin on skin, the bed creaked, Derek's fingers dug deep into his hips, his nails dragging on Derek's skin leaving small bubbles of blood. It was there. Almost. Pursing his lips to try not to scream for mercy because he was so **goddam close**.

"Ugh, Derek…_**please**__._"

"God! You're…so tight, baby."  
His thigh was lifted onto Derek's shoulder, the other leg on his hip. The position allowed Derek to penetrate deeper. This was Heaven.

He focused one the clenching muscles, the way they flexed an contracted, how precise his movements were…**gorgeous**.

It seemed like hours and seconds at the same time. He needed his release, but did not want the pleasure to end. His One more thrust and he was unraveling, breaking, and then mended by Derek soft touches and kisses. Falling from Cloud 9. Derek's head rested on his chest fighting to catch his breath.

"Are...you-okay?"

Spencer laughed, breathless, "A little pain, but I'm okay."

"I think...you killed me."

Spencer chuckled; grabbing Derek's face and kissed him.

"We should clean up. I feel icky."

Just as Spencer was about to climb out of bed, the dark skinned man pulled him back.

"We can worry about that tomorrow. I'm tired; you're tired so just lay down."  
Spencer wrinkled his nose, but silently agreed. Wrapped up with the other's body he was thinking about what just happened.  
"Did I make a mistake?"

He whispered to himself. He stared at Derek's face. Brown eyes hidden underneath dark lashes and relaxed lids, worries cast aside. His index finger traced the other's lip. He had fantasized about it, dreamt about it, but the real thing made the situation harder. He was ready for a new relationship? He didn't want-whatever they had-to end at sex. The friendship would be awkward.  
"Ugh, stop it Spencer, go to sleep." He hissed at himself. He sat up, folding his knees to his chest as he watched the other sleep. He breathing even-slow...he chest rose and fell with the beat of Spencer's own breathing. Connection. It was there too, but he felt guilty. He ran his fingers through his hair. Stress was building and as he pondered and analyzed his actions-their actions.

"Shit." Spencer slowly, quietly grabbed his clothes scattered around the bedroom, then closed the door, then picked up his other clothes from the living room and hallway. He stopped at the front door. He felt himself losing his resolve.  
"Just take one more step. Then leave. Derek would understand."

He doubted his last statement.  
As he stood, stark naked, in Derek's doorway.

"Spencer?"  
_Why?_ He slowly turned and there Derek stood, half asleep in sweatpants, confused and sad expression staining his face.

"Spencer, what are you doing?"  
Spencer rolled his eyes, "It's obvious what I'm doing Derek." Damn, he didn't mean to sound THAT harsh, but he didn't want Derek to be the innocent one in the situation. He HAD to know. He wasn't stupid and the disappointed look on Derek's face wasn't helping.

"Why?"  
"Why what?" Spencer sighed, he didn't want to have a "talk" he wanted to leave, as soon as he got the balls to do so. He slipped on his pants and walked up to Derek, well to Derek's bedroom door behind him. He forgot his phone.

"Excuse me."  
"No."  
"Derek, don't be difficult about this," he tried to push the taller male out his way, but Derek had to be so fucking strong (That's why he kicks down doors), "it's obvious what you wanted was-you got some ass, now move so I can freaking leave!" Spencer was crying. Great. Perfect!

"You really believe that?" Derek was upset. What was he upset for?

"Yes! I do!" Derek was finally out of the way so Spencer could grab his phone. Bed...no, table...? He was pulling the sheets up and looking underneath the bed, then found I on the floor, slipped it in his back pocket. As he walked out of the bedroom he was followed to the door. The second he opened it, it was forced closed with a loud slam. He turned around to slap him, but was caught off guard with a kiss.

"Spencer, listen to me. It wasn't about the sex. I want you! All of it."  
"But-"  
Cut off with another kiss.

"Derek stop! I'm not going to allow myself to sink into another relationship built on lies-!"  
"You're not!"  
"You don't understand…what its like to be left alone and not know what to do! I'm the easiest person to deal with and-!"  
Another kiss.

Spencer pulled away, "J-just...don't hurt me."  
Derek kissed his forehead, "I'm not that type of guy, Pretty Boy."

I'm not that type of guy...

**Author's Note: Wow, drama bomb! (Lumpy Space Princess voice) Aww, Spencer, that "I'm not that type of guy" might not have been true. :-(**

**Reviews will be appreciated! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: I just want to hug all of you! *wipes tears* **

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**You are so sweet and supportive of this story. This is my most viewed fanfic right now! (Inner squeal) This is like my baby and I will keep writing until the end. New characters, new case, new insight of Spencer Reid's life.**

**Drumroll please…..!**

_**Chapter 3**_

At the time when he said it…it sounded so good. Like…my god this was what he wanted…**needed**, someone who exactly cared and wasn't going to break his heart. Leaving Las Vegas for a chance in the BAU was difficult. New people, new places, it was all too much to take in. Then, he met Michael.

*Flashback*

Sweet, gentle, conscious of his feelings, and handsome (dark hair, taller then Spencer, holy cow, and physically in shape) It was almost too easy to find someone like him. They met in a bar; Spencer had been working at the BAU for two years and had just gotten back from visiting his mother. She didn't want to talk at first. She just laid on her bed, facing the wall, creating imaginary pictures in the air. Then she said it.

"Do you love me Spencer?"

"W-What? Of course Mom."

And she didn't speak again after that.

Then he came to this local bar. One bartender and a few more customers. He drowned himself in a glass of diet Coke. What made he mother ask that question? Was she still bitter towards him?

"You know, usually when people want to forget they drink alcohol and not soda."

Spencer's head snapped towards the voice.

He was staring into crystalline blue eyes. He had a soft smile on his face.

"I-uh…who are you?"

"Michael Jones." He was holding at his hand, "What's your name?"

"Spencer Reid."

*End of FB*

They only dated for about eight months and throughout the relationship Michael broke him down and rebuilt him all over. It was a vicious cycle that led to the final straw. Some think that infidelity is just a moment in time where a relationship is on the rocks. But finding a young boy riding your so-called "boyfriend," in the bedroom you shared…it made him snap. He kicked both of them out.

But during all this time he couldn't hate him; he still _needed_ and _loved_ Michael.

In the end he found himself lost in a swarm of unhealthy "relationships," which were really one night stands. It was too easy to just let himself go out of his own mind and watch himself be used and then denied. It was the medicine; therapy, in a twisted way.

He even turned to drugs. Dilaudid. He had been introduced to it during his relationship with Michael. He was told it would "make him feel good" so "go on, try it baby." It took away all the pain and headaches, especially when Michael was rough with him…

Now…he was finding himself fearful of Derek (his love for him at least).

He is told that it can work. It **will** work because Derek Morgan said it would and he wasn't the type to break a promise. But he should have known good things don't last forever.

*Flashback*

3:00 A.M. and Spencer was still up watching Star Trek marathons…the lock twisted then Derek walked in. Although Derek said the flat was temporary, like it was a dump, it was beautiful. Anything about Derek and more was put into it. Not to mention a room to workout. The dark male plopped himself on the couch and ran his fingers through his boyfriend's hair, which was getting some curl.

"Baby, why are you up so late?"

"I was waiting for you." Spencer yawned and stretched.

"You didn't have to Spencer. You'll end up cranky in the morning whining about wanting to go to sleep."  
"I do not whine." No, Spencer was not whining now.

Derek chuckled and pulled Spencer's legs up to rest on his lap, then ran his fingertips up and down the center of the pinkish sole. Spencer flinched then swatted at Derek's hands.

"Stop that."

Derek then kissed his cheek.

"Well, that's a first." Derek smirked.

"What is?"

Derek pulled his Pretty Boy into his lap. Spencer quirked his head.

"It's the first time you've said stop."

Spencer's face was red hot and frowned and Derek laughed.

"I hate you."

"I love you too, baby."  
Spencer punched his arm and then got off of Derek and went to the bathroom, but not before giving a non-threatening glare and middle finger.

*End of FB*

J.J. called around three in the morning.

"We got him."

Who's him? A man by the name of Terry Brings who had committed several crimes in the last three months (during Spencer's depression)

His pleasure in torturing and rendering his victims helpless started at the age of ten. He would rip wings off of flies and use tweezers to repeatedly take them on and off light bulbs in the privacy of his bedroom. How did he get so fucked up? His mother, June, was a prostitute and waitress. She needed the money. Most of the money was given to her husband to fuel his addiction. His dad, Roy, was a drug addict and drug dealer. He would come home intoxicated with PCP and cocaine and he would often beat Terry with wire hangers, hold his face over an electric stove, carve the words WHORE and FAG into his son's chest and back with a kitchen knife. Left in puddles of blood and vomit the boy grew psychotic. He would hide his hidden lust for torture from his classmates, teachers, clergy, and his mother. His victims grew from insects to animals like stray cats, birds, and rabbits. He would out them in ovens or dissect them and store organs in the freezer.

By the age of 25 (he dropped out of college during sophomore year despite his high IQ) he was living in a rundown apartment. He still lived in mortal fear of his dad and lost contact with his mother. He was a loner. Never dated or had a crush. His brain was set on one task: Pain. That's when his first victim was human.

July 8th 2009.

A young prostitute was walking the streets looking for some money. She had been out of work for three weeks. She was petite, brunette, classically pretty, and weak looking.

He figured that he could have fun with her.

At first, everything went smoothly. She wanted to know what "do I have to do? Oral? Anal? Role play?" the smooth seduction **sickened** him. He reminded him this is what his mother would do. **Every night**. Just to please his sonofabitch father.

Anger consumed him.

He pulled over and in a second his hands were around her throat. She was kicking, her red nails were biting into the skin on his knuckles and wrists, and her brown doe like eyes were wide in terror.

"**Yes**." He whispered, "That's it."

She passed out.

He wasn't done.

In his apartment he had his "Medieval Dungeon"

He created many "toys" and "trinkets" in that room.

Things such as a necklace with spikes that decapitated a person with a push of a button, a stretch machine (used like in medieval century to torture criminals, dislocating victims sockets), and his favorite were two hooks.

"Yes, I'll use you tonight."

He watched the two hooks swing back and forth, as if in delight. Finally. A taste of action.

He dragged the unconscious girl to the room. He stripped her of clothes, leaving on her stilettos.

Then his plunged both hooks under the sockets connecting the arm and solider.

He put on latex gloves, a doctor mask, scrubs, and a white apron. Her screams when he hung her from the hooks made his toes curl and eyes roll.

He had a record player in the corner.

He picked out a record and began to play.

_Recitar! Mentre preso dal delirio,  
non so più quel che dico,  
e quel che faccio!  
Eppur è d'uopo, sforzati! _

He began singing along with it, swinging the girl back and forth. Her screams only heightened his joy. He had been introduced to opera music at the age of 13 by his music teacher. It carried so much pain and moved him.

_Bah! sei tu forse un uom? Tu se' Pagliaccio!  
Vesti la giubba,  
e la faccia in farina.  
La gente paga, e rider vuole qua.  
E se Arlecchin t'invola Colombina,  
ridi, Pagliaccio, e ognun applaudirà!  
Tramuta in lazzi lo spasmo ed il pianto;  
in una smorfia il singhiozzo il dolor, Ah!  
_

He stopped.

She was sweating, panting, and bleeding.

A mumble.

He held a tight grip on her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"What was that my dear?"

"**Please**…l-let me go…I-I p-promise no-t to t-tell…I swear."

She was being to cry.

"Don't cry darling. It'll be over soon."

He picked up a curved knife.

Traced from jaw line to neck, shoulders, the valley of her chest and dug, **deeply** into her stomach, drawing a W… _You're a worthless piece of shit_!...H…_Where the fuck did you go?_...O…_You like this don't do, bitch?_...R…_My little __**boy**__, Daddy __**loves**__ you_…E…

He did not hear screams.

He did not feel the hot trails of tears on his face.

He did not feel the blood drenching the sleeve of his white button up.

He saw the **word**.

He saw **red**.

He began stabbing.

Repeatedly.

He wanted **him** to die!

_Ridi, Pagliaccio,  
sul tuo amore infranto!  
Ridi del duol, che t'avvelena il cor!_

Two weeks later black trash bags floated on surfaces of lakes and washed up on beaches of Iowa.

That **word** was still intact.

It was now six in the morning. Aaron was never in a good mood early in the morning. (Who is? -_-). He had stayed up until all night trying to put Jack to bed. The boy was a handful.

The elevator doors opened. His team sat at their desks. He dragged himself to his main office, files in hand.

As he sat there, cold, hungry, and tired as hell he realized that the hot coffee was doing nothing but burning in fingers and tongue.

"Hotch."

He lifted his head from his hands. The blond, mother to now two children, Mekhai and Jamie, stood by the door.

"Yes, J.J."

"He's in the interrogation room. He has been made known of his rights. Now, he's just waiting."

"Hm. Call Dr. Reid in please."

"Okay." She nodded firmly, heels clicking on the tile floor.

A minute later Spencer was standing by the door. Looking close to death, the dark circles were darker and his skin was paler.

Aaron was frowning.

"You requested me?"

"Um…yes. Shut the door and sit…please."

Spencer slowly did what was asked. He sat, straight and alert.

"Spencer," He paused to gather his next words. It was important to keep work and personal life separate and despite now living under the same roof, they were careful when the spoke to each other. They did not want Strauss on their asses. Aaron felt that now was the time to break the rules, "Spencer I am worried about you-"

"Aaron, I am a grown man. I am not a child."

"I know that, but despite being assigned to interview him, I want to go with you. You and I both know you are fragile right now and he will use that against you."

Spencer nodded. His lips were bleeding.

*Interrogation*

The man wasn't unattractive.

He was handsome.

Slender and appeared tall, even though he was sitting.

Spencer took in the fact that his ankle was cuffed to the table.

Aaron squeezed his shoulder.

Aaron stood against the wall and Spencer sat across from the criminal.

Files in hand (pictures of the victims, evidence from crime scenes, etc.)

The man was given a plastic cup of water, it was untouched.

Spencer had to force himself to calm down.

He needed to shut down his emotions and use his brain.

The man's eyes were on him. Drinking him in. Sucking in his weaknesses. It was disturbing and nauseating.

"You must be Dr. Spencer Reid…my name is Terry Brings." He held out a hand.  
Spencer reached into his files and took out a multiple pictures. Young girls and boys. They all looked the same. The girls: brunette hair, petite, brown eyes, and all prostitutes. The boys: Blonde, strong built, blue eyes, drug dealers or addicts.

To Spencer, each represented his parents. The words cut into there bodies were filled with rage. They were tortured, some kept up to three days, other were dumped the same night. Deprived of nourishment and were not cleaned. Some were decapitated (heads never found), others were cut up, some had there throats slashed, but beaten and bloodied so badly, only dental records could identity the victims.

Terry was smiling. He traced the pictures, like a pirate caressed buried gold. Spencer said nothing.

"It's amazing how…vividly I can remember each one of them."

"Why don't you tell me about them?"

Terry rose his gaze. His smile widened.

"She looked just like you."  
Spencer blinked.

"Who?"  
A bony finger pointed to Rebecca Anderson, victim number one.

"Rebecca Anderson?"  
"Rebecca…hmm, yes. The girl was very…**vocal**."

Spencer felt bile rise up in his throat. _Don't throw up, don't throw up, don't throw up._

"…you remind me so much of her…**broken**…weak_._"

Those eyes.

He felt like either dying or shitting himself.

"You, Dr. Reid, have very feminine features. Doe like eyes, long brown, curly hair, a sway when you walk, soft-spoken…have you ever been fucked senseless-?"

A hand slammed down on the metal table. Spencer jolted from those eyes and trailed his eyes from a strained arm to an anger ridden face.

"Tsk, tsk…you should control your temper."

"Hotch-?" Spencer wanted to calm his boss down.

"Not now." The force and pure dominance laced in his tone was frightening.  
Two policemen were brought in to hall out Terry Brings.

"You are charged 12 counts of first degree murder."

A smirk.

The cuffs were put on him and he was shoved out the room.

Spencer was shaking.

Aaron kneeled in front of him, taking his face in his palms.

"Spencer, look at me."

"H-he…controlled me…I could'nt…I couldn't look away a-and-I th-think…I'm go-ing to puke."

"Aw…Spencer."

The doctor throw his arms around his chief, his friend, and cried.

"Shh…we can go home now."

*A few hours later*

…He wanted to drown…

Spencer laid in his bathtub, fully clothed with a bottle of vodka.

Sobs shook his body to the core…

He was sick of crying though.

"'I'm not that type of guy' my ass." He threw the bottle at the full body mirror in front of him.

He shouldn't be this upset though. It was expected. He should have KNOWN…, but it didn't mend his broken heart.

He couldn't keep up the façade and his so-called "boyfriend" was too proud to continue keeping the relationship in the closet-

"But did you think it was right to go ahead and search for another to warm the bed…" He couldn't bring himself to say "cheat," or he would have to destroy that perfect picture of an already broken man , protector, and proud criminal investigator, who had gained so much. Spencer wasn't the type to stomp someone's career. Derek's life was going on year 2 strong…

A soft tapping against the door snapped him from his fantasy.

The door opened…

"Spencer, you're going to get a cold if you stay in there like that." A warm hand sat him up, careful not to flinch at the feel of a protruding spine.

"Imf fine…" By the slur of words, Aaron took the statement as a "Not okay."

"Am I gonna have to carry you to bed again." Aaron's tone was light as he lifted Spencer and his extra water weight. He made it his duty to keep an eye on Spencer and help him through whatever he needed.

Like an older brother.

"Aaron…"

Said man was about to leave the room, but halted.

"Yes Spencer?"  
"Um…I'm a little cold…I figured that maybe…" The brunette was cursing his shy persona as Aaron walked closer.

"Do you want me to stay with you until you go to sleep?"

Spencer looked at what he had come to call a friend, and gave a wet smile.

Aaron tucked himself in the covers and pulled the young man to his lap, running his fingers over the fully grown hair and scalp.

"You should keep your hair like this…"  
"Mm." Spencer grumbled.

"I'm serious."

"I know."

Aaron rubbed on a particular spot; a sound close to a purr came from Spencer.

He chuckled, "I swear if I didn't know any better-"

"Aaron." Spencer was giving him a death glare  
"Okay, okay…"

"No talking, more sleeping." Spencer poked the raven-haired's chest.

"Night Spencer."

**Author's Note: That was hard to write without crying and throwing a fit. I've been writing this since 5:00 P.M. and it's already 12:43 P.M. **

**Terry Bringer is a horrible man! (I don't know where the hell that character came from *shivers* ike that Slenderman *more shivers*)**

**Also, the song is an opera "Vesti la Giubba" from the play "**_**Pagliacci**__**.**_**" Very sad play. *sigh* Michael will be brought up more and I know some of you are asking: "Where they hell is Derek now?!" **

**I will also bring that up in the next few chapters (along with his family) **

**There is a lot to do so, bare with me please!**

**Reviews are appreciated! Thank you!**


	4. Author's Note

**Author's Note/ Apology: **

**I feel awful that I have been so late posting. Between the storm, college midterms, and papers to write I haven't had time to post! (-_-) *sigh***

**Don't come after me with torches and pitchforks yet!**

**The show must go on!**

**And to make it up to all of you, I have posted two new chapters. (*squee*)!**

**The chapter after this note is mostly about Derek and his interactions with other characters. The chapter after…well, you'll have to check it out yourself, but you may be tempted to kick someone's butt.**

**I would like to give thanks to those who followed, reviewed, and or faved:**

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**You all are great supporters of this story and I couldn't continue without all of you. (^_^)**

**So…**

**(Drum roll please!)**

_**Start the show!**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I realized that I have not used any Smashing Pumpkins song's since the first chapter so, to make up for that I am using the song "Perfect" by SP. It is a really good song. So, on with the story and ENJOY!**

_**I know we're just like old friends, we just can't pretend, that lovers make amends, we are reasons so unreal, we can't help but feel that something has been lost… **_

As he left the BAU office, papers in hand, and stomach growling, he thought about the young genius. Had the kid been avoiding him as much as he was avoiding the kid? He deserved it.

_**But please you know you're just like me, next time I promise we'll be, perfect…  
**_

"…J.J. I'm not in the mood to go out. I just want to get home and work on these files."

The voice made goose bumps appear on his skin. It was…different.

"Alright Reid, just make sure you give me a call."

He heard nothing else after that. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn't see the subject of his thoughts walk towards him and bump into his side.

"S-sorry, Morgan."  
The genius moved as though touching him burned him.

_**Perfect strangers down the line, lovers out of time, memories unwind…**_

Their eyes met.

Brown versus brown.

It was painful.

_**So far I still know who you are, but now I wonder who I was...  
**_

Derek Morgan.

Son of a police officer, a man that died a hero.

Son of a full time mother, Fran Morgan.

Brother and protector of his two sisters: Desirée Morgan and Sarah Morgan.

But Derek Morgan, former football player, black belt in Judo, runner of FBI self-defense classes, man who served in a bomb squad unit, and former Chicago police officer...

Strong, sophisticated, and intelligent Derek Morgan… was currently getting his ear chewed off by is mother.

"…you need to visit your family, Derek. You face ruthless killers everyday and I want to make sure my baby is in one piece!"

Derek loved his mother, but he knew it wasn't just about keeping his family updated. She wanted to know if he put a ring on a finger. She wanted grandbabies.

"Alright, Mama, I'll be over tomorrow morning. I promise"

"And not a minute late. I love you baby."

"Love you, too Mama."

He plopped back on his couch and kicked off his sneakers. Lately he couldn't sleep. If he did it was only for a few hours then he would get up early in the morning, the sun not rising up above the horizon yet, and run. He would run until his feet would burn in his sneakers. Until the sole of his shoes were flat. Until the freezing December wind kicked him in the ass. It was now 2 o' clock in the afternoon and he just wanted to crawl in his bed and sleep. But even now, exhausted, deprived hours of precious sleep, eyes closed…he couldn't go to sleep.

Derek knew, more than anybody how bad it was to keep things hidden. But he wasn't ready to face what he had done.

He couldn't even admit it to himself.

You could say that running in the early hours of the day was a way to run from personal issues. He'd done it before.

The one man he trusted in his life took away his dignity, his manhood, his **life**.

He was stuck between wanting an opportunity to not be on the streets like the other kids and knowing that what going on behind closed doors, in quiet rooms with the doors locked. He would come home, aching and sore, but would sneak out in the middle of the night and run. He would run until he could barely feel the ground. Until he couldn't see past his own tears. Until the pain in his legs numbed the pain his chest.

This pain was worse. He mind as well be Buford-

Something was burning.

Derek hopped up and ran to the oven.

"[cough] D-damn it [cough] [cough]"

Well, so much for a baked steak dinner. It was his mother's recipe. Years after the "Derek-almost-burnt-the-house-down" episode, he still managed to mess things up. He threw out the steak and the pan-he planning a shopping list for IKEA anyway-and pulled out his cell phone.

"…Hi…I would like to order a large pepperoni pizza…delivered…yes…"

In 20 minutes the pizza would be here.

[stomach growl]

Could he wait that long?

He stared at the pile of unfinished case files that Hotch had him look over. It sickened him. Countless times he would see these cases and would be overwhelmed with guilt. It wasn't the fact that they may or may not catch the offender, because sometimes they wouldn't. It was the idea that there would always be some sick fuck out there, waiting to strike. Sometimes, he would restrain himself from kicking the crap out of some sickos.

"I can't do this." He was staring at the same page for 25 minutes…Where was his pizza?

_Brring…Brring…Bbrring!_

He walked up to the door.

"Thank y—_Baby Girl_?"

"You look like you are shocked to see me, my Chocolate Adonis."

Derek chuckled. The blonde never ceased to amaze him. She walked into Derek's apartment liked she was the Queen of it.

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted to talk to you."  
The way she said it set off a sickening role in Derek's stomach.

"Hm-mm, what's up Sweetness?"  
He plopped back on the couch and padded the seat next to him.

"I'm worried about you…we all are-"

"Whose "we"?"

"J.J., Emily, Hotch, R-"

"There is nothing to be worried about, I'm perfectly fine."

He flexed himself with a smirk to show how **fine** he was.  
"Derek, don't make me slap you, you know what I'm talking about."

Her eyes held that motherly love that could make a grown man feel like a little boy.

"Derek, there is something wrong that you're not telling me."

"Like what?"  
The blonde scooted closer to her best friend, her brother from another mother, and grasped his face in his hands.

"Look at me, in my eyes and tell me that nothing is wrong."

Derek's eyes slid shut and tears slipped out from their barrier.

Penelope Garcia, Technical Analyst, the Sweetness of the team, and God-given solace, and bubbly beauty was now frowning; a crease forming above her brow and eyes filling with fresh tears.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it now, but you need to know that we all care. You've been through Hell and back and from what you're expressing to me, you're still going through it. And you don't have to always be Macho-man or the man-that-can-do-anything-and-everything. Just be Derek Morgan the person."

She wiped away his tears with the pads of her thumbs.

*Page Break*

"Mama, he's here!" Desiree jumped off the couch, seeing Derek's car park his car along the sidewalk, then yanked open the screen door to greet her brother.

"Derek!"  
"Why are you here?"

"Aw, didn't you miss your baby sister?" She pouted

"No."

Derek laughed then gave her a good squeeze. Visiting his family allowed him some peace and happiness in his hectic schedule as a profiler.

Walking arm and arm the two siblings updated each other on their new lives. Desiree has been in a relationship with her boyfriend for a year, she seemed happy.

"What about Sarah?"

"She's okay. A little quiet since the last time you visited."  
"Hm."  
"Mama made all of our favorites for dinner, so I hope you haven't eaten yet?"

"I did, but I got a stomach of steel. I can handle it."

Desiree pulled Derek into the house, towards the kitchen.

"Mama!"

_Crash!_

The two siblings exchanged quick glances before running into the kitchen. There mother was huffing under her breath as she swept up glass and pickles from the broken pickle jar.

"Mama, are you alright?" Derek noticed his mother's feet were bare.

"I'm alright baby, just go grab the trash can for me."  
Once the glass was cleaned up Mama exchanged a glance at Desiree.

"I…uh, I'll check on Sarah."  
Desiree pressed a kiss to her brother's forehead and ran upstairs.

"Where's my sugar?"  
Derek smiled and gave his mom a hug, lifting her a few inches off the floor.

"Now, why am I not seeing a ring on you?"  
"Mama," Derek groaned, "I knew you would start this. I'm not ready for commitment."

"Hun, you are hindering _yourself_ from committing."

She turned back to the task at hand: cooking a meal for an army.

"I am not hindering myself. I'm taking my time."  
"Derek, we both are not getting any younger. I would like to _see _my grandbabies before I die." She chuckled  
"Don't talk like that." Derek wrapped his arms around his mother, he kissed her temple.

"Any news I should hear about?"  
"Same as always."

Fran glanced back at her son. She saw pride in his eyes and boyish joy, but something wasn't right.

"What's wrong?"  
Derek sighed.

Fran frowned and put away the potato salad, making a mental note to take the red velvet cake out of the oven in 45 minutes. She sat at the table with her son.

"I'm your mother. I've two other children so I know when something is not right."  
Derek smiled and pulled away.

"I'm fine. I'm going to go to see Sarah."  
Fran nodded and reluctantly dropped the issue.

Derek meanwhile went upstairs. Desiree sat in the hallway against the door, texting.

"Des, why are you out here?"  
Desiree shrugged, "The door is locked, and Sarah won't open the door."  
Derek blinked.

He knocked on his sister's door, "Sarah? Sarah, open the door."  
"Go away, I'm busy."

"No you're not. Why did you lock the door?"

A muffled exasperated sigh reached his ears.

"Des?"

"Hmm?"

"Why don't you go help Mama get dinner together? I need to talk to Sarah."

Desiree nodded and went downstairs. Once out of ear shot Derek reached into his back pocket to grab his wallet and took out a business card then swiped it down the tight crevice of the door's opening. It clicked open.

His sister laid on her old bed, staring up at the ceiling, headphones in her ears. Derek laid down beside her.

"Derek, how did you get in here?"  
"I'm an FBI agent Sarah, remember?"

She rolled her eyes.

"What's up?"

"Not my life, that's for sure," she swung an arm over her eyes, "Do you ever wish you could just _fix _everything, wish everything could change?"  
"Sure."

"I'm so sick of coming here and seeing barely any progress. There's still crime, still death, still—it's just Hell here. The only good change is that Det. Gordinski finally got that stick out his ass."

Derek stared at his sister for a few moments then both stared laughing.

"It's been a while since I laughed like that."  
"Yeah."

"Derek, you don't visit as often as you used to."  
"I know."  
The said man rubbed his hand down his face.

"A lot has happened since my last visit."

"Oh, really?"  
"It's not that I never wanted to visit, I've been tied up in cases and-"

"Did you meet someone?"

"Well-"

"Oh my god. You did!"

"Sarah." Derek warned.

"Okay, I'm sorry. You may continue."

Derek shook his head.

"Forget it."

"Derek-"

"Drop it."

"Mama, you really outdone yourself. If you feed me anymore I'll turn into a pig." Derek leaned back in his chair, content, rubbing his stomach. His plate was cleared and looked spotless compared to his siblings, who barely got past half of their dinner.

"About time, you had two servings Derek!" Desiree wrinkled her nose, "How can you eat that much?"  
"I'm a growing boy, Des."

Fran and Sarah laughed. Desiree looked ready to vomit the little she consumed.

"Hun, you look like you're sick. Why don't you set up the Monopoly board game in the living room."  
"I'll go help, Mama."  
"Thank you."

"I set aside enough food for your friends at the BAU, especially for that young boy..." She clicked her tongue, trying to figure out his name. It's been a good year since she last saw him.

"You mean Spencer, Mama?" Her son offered

"Yes! Maybe I should give him a slice of pecan pie."  
"Mama, you feed him anymore and he'll explode. He does just find with coffee and a few cups of sugar." Derek chuckled.

"That can't be healthy. He needs protein and vitamins."  
Derek shook his head. His Mama could be anyone and everyone's Mama. When their dad had died, their mother made their well being her first priority. She slaved over the kitchen and cleaning supplies to ensure a healthy and beneficial life.

But even that couldn't prevent the bill collectors from calling.

That's when Derek got into trouble.

It was also when C—Buford, came into Derek's life.

"—yes or no?"

Derek snapped out his memories.

"Were you listening to me?"  
Fran's hands were on her hips.

"Sorry, Mama…"  
"I asked if you would like to take hope some dessert for yourself." Her voice softened towards the end.

"Yes, I would."

She placed a giant paper bag with small plastic bags inside, on the table.

"I want you to deliver this as soon as you get back."  
"Yes, ma'am."

"I packed Spencer extra-"

"Mama." Derek playfully groaned, "You do too much."

There was a pause. Fran lips were pursued and eyebrows worried.

Something was up and before he could ask, that dreaded realization tore through that kitchen.

"You don't talk about…Spencer like you used to."  
Derek mouth went dry. His throat felt like it had dry ice in it. His head was burning. The last time he felt like this was when he had almost burned down the house. Fear raced through his veins that day and if it wasn't for the firefighters, he might have suffocated to death. **This** fear was much worse. More **real** because he couldn't be saved from this, it was bound to come up.

"For the past year you haven't been the same, baby, and I can see it. I've been taking care you and your sisters for too long to not know when my babies are not troubled."

She sat down with a determined look on her face. This conversation was **definitely** not going away.

Derek inhaled a breath of acid. _Here it goes. _

"Spencer and I have been on bad terms lately."  
"Is it something he did? Or is it something _you_ did?"

"I made a mistake."

His mother said nothing.

"I…uh, had a few drinks…at this club…I thought that everyone should let loose. The team had been on cases back to back for weeks."

His mother took his hand.

Times like this made him feel like he was thirteen.

"I got a little tipsy…then I blacked out and the next thing I know, I'm with some girl."  
"You slept with this woman?"  
Derek nodded.

"Spencer found out."  
Another nod.

Fran shook her head.

"Have you talked to him since that night."  
"No. He doesn't want to be near me."  
"_Derek_, you need to fix this."

"Mama-"

"Don't you "Mama" me Derek, your father and I raised you to face your mistakes and take responsibility for your actions."

"I know, but-"

"Derek, that boy has gone through a lot. From what you told me, you and the rest of the team are all he has _left_. You are going to make the mistake of letting it go as if it does not matter, as if it does not faze you. If you keep this up he will _never_ come back."

Derek rubbed his scruff and shut his eyes tight.

His fist settled over his mouth.

And as his mother's arms enveloped him, hot tears streamed down his face.

**Author's Note: I really like where I'm going with Derek's point of view of this mess. **

**Reviews are accounted for and appreciated. Thanks! **


	6. Chapter 6 (Fixed)

**Author's Note: Remember when I said you; the viewers/readers might won't to kick some butt. Well, here it is. Prepare tissues because this is heartbreaking (I think). **

***Spencer's Flashback***

10:49 P.M. was the only light source. The car itself was turned off.

_He followed you_

_He's going to kick your ass_

A gasp, intake of shattered breath, he ached.

His heart rate increased with every passing vehicle.

Waiting. Fearing the worst. With every hesitant exhale the windows would fog. Hiding him in an unsure and mocking fate.

Alone. In the dead of winter in a blanket of darkness. His fingers screamed and throbbed. His heart felt numb. Although a blanket covered him, it could not shield all the wounds and scars he had accumulated over the last five months. One eye was swollen shut. His neck had an imprint of a hand wrapped around it, colored in purple and black welts.

He was exhausted. But if he slept he would lose his freedom.

He felt blood and ejaculate fluids slide out of him and onto the driver's cloth covered seat.

Torn from the inside out.

He continued to submit, succumb to his boyfriend's untimely rounds of paranoia, jealousy, and rage.

He felt sick. Mentally, physically, and emotionally **sick**-

The phone was ringing.

_Don't answer it. It could be him._

He slowly gathered enough courage to pick of the phone. It stung in the palm of his hand.

1 voicemail.

He knew who it was from, but didn't want to admit it.

2 voicemails.

He was ready to pull his hair out. He was tired, hungry, and the pain killers were wearing off.

5 voicemails.

**Crap**.

_To hear one of your voicemail messages, press 1. To hear all voicemail messages, press you would like to delete all voicemail messages, press the # button._

Why was he shaking so badly? He braced himself for obvious rage that was going to come through his phone.

He pressed number 2.

_Voicemail Message 1:_

_Spencer, pick up the phone! Where the fuck are you? _

_Voicemail Message 2:_

_Spencer, I swear if you don't pick up that goddam phone! I'm sick of your shit!_

He winced. New tears streamed down his cheeks.

_Voicemail Message 3:_

…_[sigh] Baby, I'm sorry…_

He was shaking his head. He didn't want to play this game anymore.

…_I lost control of my anger…babe call me, please. _

_Voicemail Message 4:_

_[sob] Spencer, I fucking love you, you know that. I would die for you…I need you to come back. I didn't…{exasperated sigh]...I didn't mean to hurt you. I know you're scared, but I'm the one whose going to protect you…you need me, Spence…call me._

_Voicemail Message 5:_

_Spencer, please. It's midnight and it's freezing out there. Come home. I won't touch you again._

_You now have zero voicemail messages._

It was a cycle. He was caught in a web of lies.

_I can't trust him, can I?_

Spencer had to make a decision. He really had no where else to go. It was a two week vacation for the rest of his friends on the BAU team. Even if he did disrupt their lives, he would be forced to tell them what was going on, why he couldn't leave, couldn't he tell, as a profiler, that his boyfriend was an abuser? He would be humiliated. Worst of all, he would be a "victim."

With the last bit of energy left he started the car.

He had never been afraid to go into his own home before. Now, that fear was a given. Would he be lashed out at? Would he be hit?

Before he knew it he was unlocking the front door. He limped to the light switch and flicked it on. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his ribcage.

He wrapped the blanket around him tighter. Every movement was discomfort and pain.

Blood had caked and dried along his inner thighs.

He looked at the clock on the wall, 1 in the morning.

He made his way to the bathroom.

He looked awful. His face was almost distorted. His hair was thinning. He let out a sob each time his eyes landed on a mark.

He didn't hear the door open and close. He only felt arms around him-

"_No, no, no, I'm sorry! Just please, please don't hit me! __**Please**__-!"_

"Shh…baby, I'm not going to hit you."

Spencer felt moisture on the back of his neck. He had to mask the gasp with pain.

"I'm sorry, baby…"

Spencer turned around. Blue eyes were now red, tears cascaded down his cheeks. He remembered why he came back: He loved Michael.

He gently picked Spencer up and carried him to the bathtub. Once Spencer was in he ran lukewarm water and climbed in himself.

Spencer was shielding himself.

"Don't do that. Come here."

It was spoken gently, but it was still a command, so Spencer did what he was told. A trail of blood followed after him.

He settled on his knees in between his boyfriend's legs. With his radar on alert he touched Michael's face, looking for any signs of upcoming rage. There was nothing but guilt. Michael's hands began to roam over the marks on his body. He felt exposed. Michael was fully clothed; he was butt naked and no matter how many times he knew Michael saw his body, he felt like he was under judging eyes. He was not in control with the way he looked because one questioning gaze could send him back to the bedroom they shared to change into something else.

He _always_ felt like he had to change.

This man had him wrapped around his finger.

***End of Spencer's Flashback***

***Present***

Spencer hasn't spoken for 10 minutes. It was expected. How could he not have reaction?

"Spencer…say something."

"I…I don't know what to say…"  
"I realize this is a hard decision-"

Spencer shot up from the couch; anger written all over his face.

"Hard? The answer is 'no.'"

"Spen-"

"No! I can't believe this! I-I can do my job just as good as anyone else and you know that!"

"Hey, hey, hey…" Aaron shushed him and took the genius's hands away from head, strands of hair already torn from the roots.

"You know that has a _friend_, I would never ask something of you that would not benefit you."

Spencer nodded. He didn't trust his voice right now.

"Good…you can still give your input during cases; you'll just be here instead of at the office of on the scene. Okay?"

"Okay." He croaked.

**Author's Note: To be continued…. MUHAHAHA! **

**Seriously, though, I think this is a really good point to stop not only because of the cliffhanger, but it is a really good place to start up the drama. I like a good twist and I really wanted it to be shocking. I did research and found actually stories where people were abused like this, it's hard not to cry when you read heartbreaking stories like that. **

**Also think back to Spencer's line in chapter 2: "…****I'm not going to allow myself to sink into another relationship built on lies-!"**

**I really wanted to connect all the pieces of this story, no loose ends. **

**Reviews are appreciated and taken into account.**

**Thank you!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Late again (sigh)…I apologize to all of you who are waiting for this…on a good note; I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving, and I am personally hoping for snow for Christmas! **

**I am very happy that this story is still going strong. As I always do, I would like to do a shout out to those who reviewed, faved, and or followed!**

**Akidd10193**

**Eraseus**

**Go-Rimbaud-Go**

**ImmortalMonkeyX**

**InADarkRoom**

**Jae Ar**

**Krystal Jaymes**

**RoseLaurel**

**Sakelly**

**Straw-hat Monkey D. Luffy**

**amita27**

**antigone21**

**cares113**

**crazyforglitter**

**firetotherain3**

**geritom**

**giderasia1**

**gublerette**

**marcallie**

**maryhell**

**mythepoeia**

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**zabica16**

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**Sancia**

**My-Secret-Wonderland**

**Ranger Raz Whitlock**

**Andraea Shade**

**twi-hard-twilight-addict**

**yumi-san 29**

**(If I did not mention your name, I apologize) I swear this list gets bigger and bigger. I may have more followers/reviewers/faves than words in the chapter! Haha.**

**This chapter is from Derek's perspective and this is after Spencer is removed from the office. As you can imagine, Derek isn't so happy about that. **

**New character alert!**

'Talking'

'_Thoughts'_

'**Emphasis' **

**Drum roll please! ...Chapter 7!**

As he parked his car in the parking lot of the BAU office, his nerves were ticking. It was abnormal for him to feel like this. To feel **vulnerable**. No control over the overwhelming emotions his body was experiencing. Regret, Guilt, Fear, and dare he say it . . . **Love**. Fourteen year old Derek was back again. The same fourteen year old, middle school student that had a crush on hot, high school student Briana Lane. The girl all the guys wanted. The girl that was not interested in **him**, she wouldn't even dare to look his way. He was put in a stomach churning, heart racing situation. He did not like it. He felt **weak**.

"Dammit Derek, get yourself together."

He needed to just relax.

"I can't do this." He groaned with a new found failure attitude and slumped in his seat. He couldn't get past the idea that it was over. **They** were over.

"Shit." He banged his fist on the dashboard.

He felt like dying.

He slowly got out of his vehicle and walked into the building. His pulse increased as he stepped into the elevator. Claustrophobic.

This was the floor.

"You got this." He cracked his neck and strolled in. Mask in place. **The** Derek Morgan was in the building. He did his usual round of "Hello's" and "Good morning's" with a heart throbbing smile, set with white teeth **(AN: Crest toothpaste does wonders! ) **and sat at his desk.

Something was off.

**Way** off.

No flying caps.

No erratic shuffling of papers.

No aroma of coffee with pounds sugar.

No clicking of pens.

And who the **hell** is that at Spencer's desk?!

A sort of middle aged man, short blonde hair, glasses, green eyes, and an aura that stunk of someone too far up their ass.

The young man caught Derek's eye and smirked.

Derek's fists balled, then flexed. _Relax._

He continued to look at the mountain of files.

He groaned. How the hell did the Kid enjoy this crap?

He smiled as he imagined the cute way he would bit his lip, eyes aflame, and hair tucked behind his ears as he surfed through half of the files in 30 minutes. Weird, but cute—

"You're Derek Morgan right?"

"Yeah."

Derek didn't turn around; he didn't want to see the person he was trying to avoid.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, you can if you would turn around please."

Derek's fists were clenched again, but he turned around, the man started talking:

"I need help with the computer. It doesn't seem to want to work."

"I wouldn't know how to help you, but I know who would."

Derek got up and began walking; turning around to see if the man got the hint. They walked towards Garcia's office. The bubbly technician was too invested into her computer screen to notice the two men standing behind her.

"Baby Girl—"

"_Oh my god_!—" The woman knocked her jar of pens to the floor as she jumped. Derek smirked. "Please don't do that again."

The visitor didn't see anything funny about this interaction. It was… highly unprofessional.

The two's bantering stopped once Garcia noticed the other man standing next to her Chocolate Adonis.

"Oh. Hello, I apologize for ignoring you," she said as she got up, hand out while she approached the man, "My name is Penelope Garcia, most hear call me Garcia."

The man took her hand, "How do you do, Ms. Garcia. I am here for your assistance. It seems my computer is not working."

"Luckily for you, I just finished my work so I can get right to you."

The man nodded. Garcia smiled and hacked his computer to get to the problem. Derek decided to wait outside.

Garcia fixed the problem in two minutes. A new record.

It was lunch break and as he was just about to walk out the building—

"Excuse me!"  
"_Goddamnit_," Derek grumbled.

The man's presence was getting closer.

"What is it?"

"I thought I'd introduce myself. My name is Greg Burns." He offered a handshake. Derek stared at it like it was something from Mars.

"Hi." Derek began walking away. A few feet away the man called to him.

"I heard a lot about you, Derek Morgan!"

Derek took a pause.

"Oh, really?"

"Former football college player, former Chicago officer, runner of self-defense classes, etc…Very impressive."

"Are you Google-ing me or are you stalking me?" Derek walked right back towards—Greg Burns.

The man chuckled, "No, no, no. I just wanted to know who the people are one my team and see what they are capable of, is all."  
"I like my privacy."

"On a team that is highly intelligent and invasive in criminal's minds and their own…that's not likely. Besides, it's nothing you need to be worried about, all secrets are safe with me."  
"Hm, I'm sure."

"Although, I do find your relationship with Ms. Garcia quite peculiar…"  
Greg was frowning. Derek was seething.

"What are you saying?"  
"I think it is unprofessional to call Ms. Garcia, "Baby Girl," this is a serious business."

"And how I talk to my friends is none of _your _business."

"There's no need for anger. I am only stating what is ethical."

Derek was beyond **pissed** off. He pinched the bridge of his nose and then held his hands up, as if defeated in this conversation.

"You know what, you're right."  
Greg smiled.

"Good. I hope you heed my advice. I will see you after lunch."  
Derek turned and after walking a few blocks he punched the side of a building, sliding down it, eyes closed, ears throbbing making a humming noise that ached his head.

This was _not_ going the way he wanted.

**-End of the Day-**

As he wandered around the streets he saw Prentiss and J.J. walking as well, containers of what appeared to be salad in their hands. He walked up to them.

"Hey, have you two seen the Kid?"

"No, not since last week," said Prentiss, "I think Hotch said he wasn't feeling well and needed a break…"

"Didn't Hotch tell you?" J.J asked.

"No. He didn't. Did you know Hotch hired someone else?"

"Yeah…um— George, no… Greg! Greg Burns. He seems a little invasive."

"Hotch hired him. We should respect his decision." Emily stated.

"Em, you can't be serious," Derek groaned, "The man—"

"—deserves respect and open arms, Derek. He may seem a little…rough, but we need to work as a team and hope for the best."

J.J. nodded, "She's right. We'll talk later. I'm sure Reid will be back." J.J. patted Derek's cheek and Emily smiled. The two girls walked off, leaving Derek out in the cold.

He needed to talk to Hotch.

**Author's Note: A little shorter than usual, I know, I just wanted to get this out before I switch back to Spencer.**

**I will update again later today!**

**Reviews are appreciated!**

**BleedinRosez, out!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: Did you miss Spencer? I did! This is a little short, but this is all I can get out for now, college classes are winding down and I need to stay focused (-_-) But I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!**

**Thanks to reviewers/ faves/ follows:**

**Akidd10193**

**Eraseus**

**Go-Rimbaud-Go**

**ImmortalMonkeyX**

**InADarkRoom**

**Jae Ar**

**Krystal Jaymes**

**RoseLaurel**

**Sakelly**

**Straw-hat Monkey D. Luffy**

**amita27**

**antigone21**

**cares113**

**crazyforglitter**

**firetotherain3**

**geritom**

**giderasia1**

**gublerette**

**marcallie**

**maryhell**

**mythepoeia**

**xXElleGurlXx**

**zabica16**

**kawaiistrawberrylove**

**Sancia**

**My-Secret-Wonderland**

**Ranger Raz Whitlock**

**Andraea Shade**

**twi-hard-twilight-addict**

**yumi-san 29**

**topazflowerxox**

_On with the show!_

Today is close to Hell.

_**Today is the greatest  
Day I've ever known**_

He really doesn't have a wall to put up.

He's stuck with dark memories of the two people he gave his heart to.

The two people that broke his soul.

He has been craving Dilaudid. _Again_.

He laid, doubled over in pain on the couch. He started at his fuzzy, darkened reflection across the living room. How could something so, inevitable…hurt so bad to the point where his intestines burned and felt like they were either combust or rip out off his body.

_**Can't live for tomorrow,  
Tomorrow's much too long  
I'll burn my eyes out  
Before I get out  
**_

Then, there was a short, soft knock, followed by a series of poundings that had his ears ringing.

Mask on.

He walked down to the door and looked through the keyhole.

It was Jack (with a plate of cookies) and his Aunt Jessica.

He opened the door, the boy raced in while his Aunt laughed.

"That boy is comical."

Spencer nodded. His stomach was still churning through a grinder.

"Thanks for bringing him home, Jessica."  
"No problem. Any trouble, just give me a call."

She gave him a quick hug and waved as she walked back to her car.

Spencer shut the door. The woman's hug didn't make the pain any better.

"Uncle Spencer, Uncle Spencer! Let's watch Star Shrek!"  
"You mean Star _Trek_?"  
Spencer smiled.

The kid was comical.

He dragged into the living room by urgent, soft hands.

"Jack, don't you have homework?"

"I promise I'll do it after two episodes."

Spencer playfully sighed, "Okay. But _only_ two."

Everything seemed a little brighter, a _little_.

Spencer was working from home and now, Jack was able to stay at the house with him, instead of just hopping back and forth between here and his Aunt's. Spencer admitted to himself that the kid was a handful; energetic and wanted to know almost everything. He enjoyed Uncle Spencer's answers to his questions. He liked how he seemed to know all there is to know, it made Math a little easier because his Dad didn't get it as quickly.

It was getting late. Jack had just finished his mac n' chesse, taking his bath, and he was now zooming around the living room with his Lego spaceship. Spencer kept one eye of his boss's son and the other on the case his team was working on.

_This doesn't make sense…yet._

Kids were being kidnapped, but the ages ranged from six to seventeen years old, boy or girl, and some were killed in different ways. There seemed to be no MO right now. It was frustrating, but it kept him from thinking about…

Spencer began reading faster. He was in no mood to start more flashbacks.

Jack, in the mean time, saw the distressed and agitated look on his Uncle's face and decided that Uncle Spencer needed his Aunt's specially made chocolate chip cookies and coffee. He put down his toys. The boy looked at the genius frantically typing on his keyboard. He was distracted. He creped to the kitchen, got his step stool, and pulled himself up onto the counter. His dad kept his favorite coffee at the top of the pantry, apparently it was called Maxwell. Why couldn't they just call it coffee? He realized that he still couldn't reach the dark blue container with his little fingers and got back down. He looked around for—ah ha!—the broom! He poked his tongue out as he concentrated on getting the container. His pushed the stick behind it and started pushing it towards the edge of the shelf…and…there! He would be able to reach it now! He got back up on the counter, but as he was pulling out the container, his foot slipped on a wet spot.

He was suddenly falling.

Screaming.

Then he was on the floor.

His eyes were still shut and he could hear Uncle Spencer calling his name and footsteps racing towards him—

"Jack! Jack!" He was being pulled up, but once his legs touched the ground, his was crying. His knees really hurt!

He tried to see, but his stupid tears were in the way.

"Jack, what happened?" His cheeks were being brushed by soft hands and he thought he was sitting back on the counter. When he was finally able to see, he saw that he was indeed sitting on the counter. A frown was on his Uncle's face and he had a pen behind his ear. He didn't mean to make his Uncle sadder. He began whimpering.

"No, no, no, no…please, don't cry. I need to know where you're hurt so I can make it all better. Okay?"

Jack nodded and began speaking:  
"I saw t-that you were sad…and I just wanted t-to help I...I thought you wanted a snack and I knew you liked coffee so I tried to get the container, but I couldn't reach it. So I got a broom to help. I reached again and I slipped and fell."

He looked at his surroundings. Coffee was **everywhere**. The container was on its side, empty.

Tears were flowing down the poor boy's cheeks and tears were forming in Spencer's eyes, too.

Oh no, he made Spencer cry. He was the worst nephew ever!

"I didn't mean to cause more trouble! I'm sorry Uncle Spencer." The boy hung his head in shame. Spencer said that long ago when people didn't have jail they were humiliated by having tomatoes thrown at them. He deserved those tomatoes. Spencer lifted his face up, wiping the tears with the pads of his thumbs.

"There's no need to be sorry. It was very sweet of you to be worried about me, but you should've asked for help."  
"I know. I just…I wanted to surprise you."

Spencer smiled and gave the Jack a hug, but the hug pressed the boy's knees against his thighs and he yelped.

"Ah…so, you fell on your knees. Well, let's take a look."

Spencer bent down to roll up the boy's pajama pants legs. The knees were bruised, but it wasn't too bad.

He got up and disappeared from the kitchen for a moment, then returned with the First Aid Kit. He knelt down in front of Jack again. He took out some gauze and began wrapping his right knee.

"Let me know if it gets too tight."

"Okay."

Spencer was wrapping the left knee when Jack said:

"Daddy is going to be so mad at me. Maxwell is gone."

Spencer paused for a bit.

_Maxwell?_

Once the knees were wrapped, Spencer walked to the freezer and got some ice then he got two small plastics bags and put the ice in them.

"Hold these on your knees so they can heal."

"Right." Jack placed both bags on his knees, winced, shivered, and then sighed in relief. His Uncle was the best Doctor ever, but he wasn't going to tell Ms. Mariah (his doctor) that, she would get jealous.

Spencer looker around for the container.

_Oh, Maxwell…_

Spencer put the container on the table and began sweeping up the coffee beans. He heard a sad sigh.

"Jack, what's wrong?"

"There's no more coffee and now, you won't be happy."

"Aw, Jack…" Spencer threw out the beans and smoothed back the boy's hair, "I do enjoy coffee, but nothing makes me happy then just staying here with you and your Dad."

The boy beamed.

"Really?"  
Spencer nodded.

"But…can will still have cookies?"  
"Sure. But this time, we'll just have milk."

"Yes!"

Spencer laughed at the boy's enthusiasm as he got out the cookies and milk.

Spencer has to admit, Jessica really knows how to bake.

Three cookies (each) later, the two were sitting in the living room with a blanket. Spencer was wearing his glasses and was continuing to analyze the case while Jack was watching Spongebob. He laughed when Patrick got hit in the head with a coconut.

But, no matter how many times Patrick hurt himself, or Spongebob laughed and flipped Krabby Patties, or Squidward was mean to the two best friends…Jack's eyes wouldn't stay open. He blamed the milk and cookies. He snuggled closer to Spencer.

"Uncle [yawn] Spencer…"  
"Yes?"

"How far is the moon?"

"238,900 miles, 384,400 kilometers."

"Can people go on the moon?"  
"If they wear a spacesuit. The human brain cannot survive in space because there is no oxygen in space. Your brain is 2% of your body weight and it needs 25% of all oxygen used by the body, as opposed to the 12% used by your kidneys or the 7% by your heart. So, if your brain has no oxygen, you can't survive either."

"[yawn]Oh…"

Spencer chuckled, "You getting tired there, Jack?"

"No!" The boy rubbed his eyes, "I want to stay up to see Daddy."

Spencer put down his laptop and put Jack in its place.

"It's already 11pm. It's past your bedtime."  
"But…then I won't see Daddy."

"I will wake you up in the morning before he goes back to work."

"Swear."  
"I swear."  
"Cross your heart."

Spencer crossed his heart.

"I can stay in here, right?"  
Spencer smiled and nodded.

Jack was asleep within two minutes. It had been 3 hours, 26 minutes, and 21 seconds when Spencer heard the key enter the lock and the doorknob turn.

"Jack? Spencer?"  
Spencer lifted his gaze to his boss who looked like he was about to pass out. His hair was sticking up in different directions and his voice was groggy. Brown, blood-shot eyes looked at Jack. A small smile reached his lips as he touched his son's head.

"He's sleep. That's good."

He slowly sat on the couch with the other two.

"Hotch, you should go to bed, you look awful."

Aaron sighed," I know, Strauss was hounding me about why you're not in the office."

Spencer closed his laptop and put his glasses on top of his head. All attention was on his boss.

"I'm going to work tomorrow."  
"Reid, you can't."

Hotch was beginning to get a headache.

"Apparently, everyone else is wondering why—!"

"Only David and I know what's going on. I told the rest of the team you were sick."

"I'm not sick. I'm perfectly fine."

Spencer got up and made his way into the kitchen. He knew if this conversation got any louder, Jack would wake up. As expected, Hotch had followed him.

"Spencer, you're not fine. You are still going through things. I thought we agreed on this decision."

"I didn't agree with endangering your job!"

Silence.

_**I tried so hard  
To cleanse these regrets**_

The air was thick.

Spencer was pulled in a tight embrace.

Tears sprung, but he kept his end down. He didn't deserve sympathy. He had enough of it. He was invading Aaron Hotchner and Jack's home. Their _life_. He was a grown man living off of someone else. It wasn't right. No matter how comfortable and warm it seemed. He didn't belong here.

"Even in that genius brain of yours, you talk too much."

Spencer said nothing.

All thoughts ceased.

His face was lifted and his stared into sad, friendly eyes.  
This was more emotion than most of the others on the BAU team saw since his wife was murdered.

"Don't you _ever _think that you don't belong."

"But—"

"I need you here and Jack needs you here. This is the most relaxed I've seen him since…"

Aaron didn't talk much about his wife. Maybe, in a twisted since his boss could relate to him, in the sense that they both lost something, _someone _that they loved. But, Aaron was lucky. He didn't have to see her with another. She was faithful, but depressed. It was tragic the way she died and it seemed like he saw her every time he looked into Jack's eyes.

It was Hotch's turn to get a hug.

5 minutes and 10 seconds past…

"Spencer? Why is my container of Maxwell empty?"

Hotch reached behind Spencer to grab the subject of the conversation.

_Crap. He forgot to throw it out._

"Your son and the container fell—"

Panic started to erupt on Hotch's face.

"Don't panic, he's fine, just a little bruised up."

Hotch sighed. The headache was back.

Then, he started to laugh.

Spencer was confused.

"What's so funny?"

"You and Jack are going to give me more gray hairs than I already have."

Aaron walked back into the living room to take his son to bed.

"Spencer?"  
"Yes?"

The young profiler was getting back to his laptop.

"Thank you."

Spencer smiled with a nod.

Maybe….

Maybe today wasn't _so _bad.

_**Today is the greatest  
Today is the greatest day  
Today is the greatest day  
That I have ever really known **_

_****_**Author's Note: Ah! I'm sooo late with this :-/ This is embarrassing!**

**On a side note, the song I used was called "Today" by….. (You guessed it!) Smashing Pumpkins! Now, the song has many different interpretations, I decided to use two:**

**-Suicidal/ Depression**

**-Satisfied with life/Strength to go on**

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed! Reviews are taken into account and appreciated!**

**Gracias!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: OMG only two more classes left and then Xmas break! I hope you all are doing Xmas shopping, because I know most stores will be packed. (I'm definitely avoiding The Outlets -_-)**

**Anyway…**

**I would like to thank the reviews/faves/follows:**

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**This is the newest update to the story.**

**It may be a surprise to what happens at the end of this chapter. I will be updating during Xmas break! (I have finals left to do as well)**

**Enjoy the upcoming break!**

'**Emphasis'**

'_Thoughts'_

'Speech'

**Reviews are appreciated!**

Jack was—**finally**— in the bed.

It was hard to get him to sleep (Note: No chocolate milk before bed.) By 10:30pm Spencer was boneless and exhausted. He flopped on the couch, removed his glasses, and stared up at the ceiling.

He had gained some wait and his hair was freshly washed so it was curlier than usual.

The case was still dragging.

The murderer was on hiatus, but he—or she—would be back again. Unfortunately, that meant another victim's picture was sent in his email. It also meant that J.J., Emily, and Penelope would use it as a way to contact him (with a million questions of why's and where's). He always answered them with a quick I'm fine, and turned the attention to either the case, or the girl's lives.

Emily was being forced to go on dates (courtesy of Penelope.) The guys usually are intimated by her career choice and ultimately use the "I got to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back" excuse and **magically **disappear.

J.J. was happily taking care of her two kids and was planning a trip to Disney World for the summer.

Penelope was working on a website (the subject is unknown.)

-Page Break-

Spencer checked his watch.

_Hotch should have been back by now._

He wasn't the type to consider that something catastrophic had happened, but he was getting a little worried…Hotch was serious about time management.

*thump* Spencer's brows furrowed. He got up and walked to the door.

He heard a muffled—almost **slurred**—"Spencer"

Spencer slowly opened the door and was taken to the ground by another man.

He panicked.

"Get **off** of me! Get **off**!"

His punching and kicking wasn't doing much to the dead weight that had him pinned to the carpet.

That when he realized he wasn't being attacked and took in the figure: raven hair, a black suit that was dusted with snow, and pale skin—

"Sssspencccer…lemme lemme up..."

The air smelled like a bar.

Spencer gently pushed his boss up off him and then helped him up off the floor, the two almost tumbled back on the floor. Spencer frowned as he guided his drunken boss to the kitchen.

"Sit down and stay there."

Aaron had a goofy smile on his face.

Spencer went into the bathroom and grabbed some aspirin, by the smell of his breath he could tell Aaron had **way** too much to drink.

He returned to the kitchen with the pills and a water bottle.

"Why so frowny?" His boss chuckled, trying to mask his drunkenness.

Spencer ignored the question.

"You need to take the aspirin and drink some water or the hangover will be worse."

Aaron complied with the young man's wishes. Some of the water spilled on his jacket.

"Goddamnit." He grumbled out more slurs as he took off his jacket. He looked over at Spencer.

"Stop showing Spencer."

"You're drunk. You think I should be happy about that?"  
Spencer leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his patience thinning.

"I'm ash sober ash I'll can get. And nuffink I—wait wait—nuffink **you** can do…"

Spencer shook his head. The man lost his mind.

"I donf even know why…'re beinf so mean."

Aaron got closer.

"What about Jack, Aaron? You can't be so reckless and irresponsible like this. You—how do you think Hayley would feel?"

"Don't talk about my wife Spencer?" His voice cleared up slightly.

"Why? Can't face the truth that you messed up?"  
"Shut up, Spencer." He swayed as he pointed a finger at Spencer, "I—you have no **right** to tell me—whatidone!"  
Aaron was now in his face. His breath smelled of vodka and wine; his teeth had a slightly purple tinge. Spencer was a little taken aback, but he didn't let it show. He wasn't going to give Aaron the satisfaction. He didn't realize he was crying until he couldn't see. Everything was a blur.

"Spencer…'m sorrwy."

Spencer felt fingers on his face, but he didn't want Aaron to touch him, so he turned his face and tried pushing him.

"I-I don't want you to touch me."

He frantically began wiping his tears. Aaron pulled him closer.

"Stop it."

"No."

His head was titled. He was staring into brown embers filled with guilt…awareness…

Then lips smashed against with fierce determination, but tenderness he hadn't been given in a long time. It had his head spinning in a million directions and his heart was hammering against his ribcage. Blood rushed like lava, but cooled like ice. He wasn't moving at first. All brain function was cut short. The speed of it was intense. He was hanging onto Aaron shirt, a life line. The back of his head was being cradled with one hand…the other was on his waist, holding him in place, as if he would run away, making sure **he** was real. **This** was real. Aaron's lips were those of a man who kissed with expertise. Whose had practice, but made in it different. He knew when to part his lips. When to slip the tip of his tongue in. He knew when to bite, when to sooth. When to push and force, but how to be gentle and relaxed all at once. Spencer's legs were failing him, but the numbness in his legs was relieved once he was lifted on to the counter.

They were pressed so tightly that he could sweat. He could feel how hard Aaron was getting—**no**—

Spencer pulled away, but strong hands held him still as those same lips latched to his ear…jaw…neck…His eyes were rolling back with an intense burning.

_How the hell could one person kiss like that?_

This **had** to stop.

But he felt **loved**. Someone wanted **him**, was holding onto him as if he would slip through anxious fingers like sand.

But he had common sense.

He was sober.

Aaron was drunk.

Aaron was obviously acting on impulse and not l-

"Aaron—"

His voice was already raspy (when did he swallow sandpaper?) He cleared his throat and pulled Hotch's face…his fingers…his body…off of him.

He couldn't do it.

Those brown eyes held rejection, but at the same time maturity.

The question hung in the air. It was suffocating. Aaron was only a few inches away. His shirt wrinkled, a few buttons were missing. A bulge was pressing, **straining** against the center of his black dress pants. Trailing back up, his face looked younger…his lips were swollen red and his hair was messy, but wasn't ridiculous looking.

Spencer looked down at his fingers, then flicked his eyes back up at his **boss—**

"I can't do this."

Spencer hopped off the counter and hurried to the guest bedroom.

Wrapped up in a blanket, reading the same page of a novel 200 times…

He was overcome with guilt and fear…

The questions were bombarding his brain.

_This is crazy…You're crazy…_

_What the hell was I thinking? _

But he had to question his boss's actions. He initiated the whole thing.

_How does Hotch feel about me?_

**Author's Note: Well that was interesting…(an almost triangle is going on) What do you guys think? **

**Review and let me know! **

**Have a wonderful Xmas break!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's Note: Guess whose back! I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas break and HAPPY NEW YEAR! WHOO! It's a time of celebration, resolutions, and hangovers! **

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**Because some of you wanted to see the Aaron and Spencer, I have delivered, but the story is far from over. Enjoy! **

When he woke up the next morning his eyes were burning and his head throbbed. Through a squinted gaze he saw that the blinds were open, letting in sunlight. He got the energy to pull the blinds close. He looked down at his clothes, he was still in his dress shirt and pants, his pants were unzipped and his short was unbutton, strewn about on his body. Once the numbed away he was left with his thoughts…or what he thought was a dream. He remembers solving a really difficult case, a husband had lost his children in an explosion…he remembers how distraught and **angry **he felt…then him entering a bar…leaving…aching…then somehow ending up at his house and then Spencer…oh, right. He wanted to bang his head against the wall. He must've scared the young man with his abrupt forwardness. He had a lot to sort out today and well…he had noticed that lately, Derek was giving him an evil look…a look of disdain.

He needed an aspirin.

His bare feet padded softly on the hardwood floors, pointing in the direction of the bathroom. Not really paying attention (headache was back) he collided with another body.

"Oof! Oh, h-hi Hotch," the voice squeaked.  
Hotch rubbed his eyes then looked up and down.

"It's alright Spencer, I wasn't paying attention."

The doctor seemed to flinch at the sound of his voice, hiding behind his hair. _Interesting…_

It seemed like hours that they stood there. Aaron could tell that Spencer wasn't comfortable in talking to him…_understandable_…_What else would be expected if who you considered a friend and colleague shoved their tongue down your throat?_ He smiled softly. Although his brain was practically older than he was, could analyze the most difficult questions and unlock the puzzles of a crimminal's mind, Spencer was a little boy at heart….his innocence was still intact.

"Spencer, do you want to talk about what happened last night?"

The young man's face paled.

"Spen—"

"There's nothing to talk about…"

He couldn't help, but be amused. Despite his amusement, Aaron needed to ensure that Spencer had no need to avoid him. So, headache forgotten, he took Spencer's hand and guided him to the living room and made him sit with him on the couch. The air was thick and dry. Spencer sat on the couch, fidgeting, knees shaking…

"Spencer, I realize that what I did…might have scared you—"

"It…it just caught me off guard," Spencer suddenly looked upset, his eyes were brimmed with fresh tears, and his brows were furrowed, "Look, I get that you were drunk and that you were only acting on impulse—"

"Spencer—"

"Alcohol removes judgment and discernment. Statistics show that individuals with a high degree of urgency tend to act impulsively when they are in both positive and negative emotional states—"

A hand was pressed against his mouth. His brown eyes trailed the hand to the man who was frowning.

"Spencer, I wasn't _that_ drunk."

Spencer pulled the hand off his mouth and suddenly stood up, "What are you talking about? You couldn't possibly—"

"I _wanted_ to kiss you."

Spencer shut his eyes and opened them again. Hotch was still there. _No, no, no, no…_

"I'm sorry, say that again."

Aaron stood up. He brushed a stray hair from Spencer's face.

"I wanted to kiss you. Now, the alcohol might have added to the ferocity of it, but people say that an intoxicated person is the most honest."

"B-but your job! Aaron, this is a _conflict of interest_! The last thing you need is to be stripped of your high status…not to mention what the team will think…"

Warm, calloused hands held his face. He wanted to cry.

"Calm down. You're going to have an anxiety attack."

Spencer shook his head; tears fell down his cheeks, but were swept away. He was hurt not once, but twice, and he didn't know if he could it anymore. He had given all he had and as much as it pained him to admit it, a part of him still lingered with his two exes. One of them would always be in his life, personal and professional.

"Hey...look at me," Aaron waited until he had Spencer's full attention, "I know that you've had a hard time. I'm not going to rush you. I understand that it's another difficult decision and with these past cases and taking care of Jack, you'll need time. I'm not asking for forever, I just want you to have the courage to open up and give this a chance."

"Aaron…"  
A gentle kiss landed on Spencer's forehead and the warmth was gone.

Spencer was left in the living room. A few minutes later he heard the shower turn on. He thought about what Hotch had said.

He balled his hands at his sides…

Hotch really didn't know if Spencer would have an answer at all. The young agent had been through Hell. One relationship after the other and Hotch wasn't too adventurous after his wife was murdered. _We're both so fucked up._ How can two broken pieces be together? He felt like he was living in one of those soap operas his wife used to watch while she was pregnant with Jack. He smiled…he remembered her glow, her urgency that they come up with names, how she would hum _The Phantom of the Opera_ as she rocked by what would soon be an inhabited crib.

He washed the soap from his hair. Then he just stood there. Water cascading down his slightly muscular form. He could hear his own heart pounding in his chest. The steam rose in the bathroom.

The curtains were pulled open and the clash of the rings caused the dazed man to whip his head. He didn't have time to register the person who interrupted his thoughts. There was another body on him and his was being kissed, violently. Minutes passed before he was released and he was staring into brown doe eyes. He was not only caught off by Spencer, in the shower with him, but Spencer's impulsive actions.

"Spencer? What the hell—"

He was cut off with another fiery kiss. This time he returned it. He slid his arms around the other's waist. The hot water seemed to heighten the pleasure. Spencer's hair was plastered to both their faces. Aaron realized that Spencer still had on his clothes. His shirt and pants were soaked, becoming another layer of skin. As much as he wanted to rip off the clothes and discover the soft planes of Spencer's body…he had know _why?_

He pulled his lips away. Both panting. Spencer's pupils dilated, his lips were puffy and red, and he was soaked. The half lidded gaze he was getting made his dick throb.

"Shit, Spencer, what—why?—"

"I just…I decided not to base my answer on my brain, but my heart…wow, that sounds so sappy out loud."

Spencer groaned in embarrassment, burying his head into Aaron's neck. Hotch chuckled.

"And your decision?"

There was a reply, but he couldn't hear it.

"I'm sorry?"

Spencer lifted his head, "I said, I want to give this a shot. If you want to…"

Hotch motioned his finger for Spencer to come closer.

The kiss was slower, but held so much passion…Spencer had to wrap his legs around Hotch's hips to get his balance to ensure he wouldn't tumble to the tub's floor.

They both knew they had to be platonic when it came to their careers and things could get…hairy, but Spencer was willing to take that risk.

_This is going to be interesting…_

**Author's Note: Alright everyone, I want to know you're thoughts! Will Derek find out? What the hell is Derek doing? Will Straus find out? Will this relationship work? Reviews are appreciated! **


	11. NEW STORY TRAILER!

_**Author's Announcement: NEW STORY! WHOO! With that said, I will still keep updating on **__The Void That Cries Through You__** so, do not panic! The new story is a modern, **__Criminal Minds__** version of **__The Beauty and the Beast__**. At first, I was going to do another Derek/Spencer version, but there are a lot of those and Aaron/Spencer isn't done as much. Some of you may be hesitant to read, but I changed a few things. Spencer is still our lovable, gorgeous genius, BUT he is a dance teacher/former model/stripper (stripper thing was not his choice) (hence the Beauty) and Aaron is the detached, lonely agent. I haven't thought of a title, so I decided that I'd give a small "trailer" of the story and get some suggestions as well as your thoughts of the story. Drum roll please?**_

_**Trailer:**_

**Voice-Over: One man is breaking down…**

[The club lights flash across the multiple bodies of Club Neon. The crowd is cheering for the next act. The heat and delay is making them antsy.]

"Babe, I _own_ you! Don't you get that!"  
"You don't own me—[_smack]_!"  
"[grips Spencer's chin, sneering] _Shut up_! If you want this [_holds up a roll of fifty dollar bills_] then you'll walk your ass back out there!"  
"…No. I quit. [roughly pulls away]"

"_You'll regret it baby!_ _Don't bother coming back slut!_"

[Fades in]

_What happens next? _

_What happens next?_

[Landlord put his foot in the small crack of the door.]

"You're overdue on your rent, Spencer—"

"[Speaking through the crack] I know, I know…please, I just need a few more weeks."

"I've given you two months to pay for November, I can't keeping covering your ass."  
"But I have nowhere else to go."

_I dare you to move _

_I dare you to move _

_I dare you to lift yourself up off by the floor_

"Mom, I just…I can't visit today."

"_Why not? Is something wrong? Did something happen?"_

"No, no…I'm alright. I'm just…I alright."

"_Spencer, something is wrong and you're not telling me—"_

"It's nothing…[sigh] I'll visit tomorrow. Goodbye."

"…_Goodbye Spencer."_

_Where can you run to escape from yourself? _

"It was a _joke_. The teachers don't see the humor." [The kid sits pretzel style on the hard wood floor.]

"Jack, you cannot continue to behave in this manner. You'll be suspended."

"Can we_ please_ skip the lectures about me and start on my homework?"

_Where you gonna go? _

_Where you gonna go…  
_

**Voice-over: Another man is already broken…**

"That's Jack's father. His name is Aaron Hotchner. He's been in the school 5 times already this month. Some of the staff thinks that he abuses his own son…I think he just doesn't care anymore."

"Why not?"  
"His wife was murdered."

_Like today never happened _

"Just go _away_. Stop pretending like you care! Ever since mom died you haven't _once_ spent time with me!"

"Jack—"

[Door is slammed in his face. He could hear muffled sobs.]

_Today never happened _

_Today never happened before…_

[Fades out]

**Voice-Over: Can two people from opposite point of views…**

[Fades in]

_Kitty came back home from on the island  
But kitty came on home without a name  
She and me's a history for violence_

"You have no right to tell me how to take care of my own child, Mr. Reid!"  
"No, I don't but Jack needs you to listen to him—"

"Enough! [walks closer until he is a few inches away from Spencer] I don't have time for people meddling in matters that do not concern them."

"I'm not meddling. I only want to help."

_So we both can both can speak in tongues  
So we both can both can speak in tongues__  
_

**Voice-Over: …who seem to despise each other…**

[Local bar]

_Every single sense in me is heightened  
There's nothing left inside to rearrange  
_

"He's such a pain…Hey you! [motions for the nearest bartender] Yeah, give me another shot."

"Why do you let him get under your skin? [Watches the younger male drown himself in vodka]"

"He's not under my skin, David! He's-he's a fucking fly on the wall! [Knocks back another shot]"

" [mutters] I'm sure he is…"

_Until the universe is done  
And the course of time has run  
So we both can both can speak in tongues_

"Tell me, Spencer. What makes you think _you_ can change a man who has shut himself up for three years? [biting into sandwich]"

"I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty, J.J. In today's world, you have to sometimes. [J.J. shakes her head smiling]"

**Voice-Over: …come together as one.**

_Don't let them have their way  
You're beautiful and so blasé  
So please don't let them have their way  
_  
"Look, I know I've been as ass for these last couple of weeks, but can we just…try again? [holds hand out]"

"Sure. [shakes hand]"

_Don't fall back into the decay  
There is no law we must obey  
So please don't let them have their way  
And don't give in to yesterday__  
_

[Pouring rain outside of the small apartment that Spencer hasn't called home in months. The taxi driver continues beeping the horn, impatiently tapping his watch. Spencer his shivering, soaked, his bags are long forgotten. A tag on one of them says Los Angeles, California.]

"[To the taxi driver, yelling] _Hold on a minute…_Aaron, what are you trying to tell me?"

"I need you."

_We can build a new tomorrow today_

[Spencer stared wide eyed at the man]

"I can't do this without you."

"What…what about Emily?"  
"Emily and I… it just wasn't going to work out. We were two different people. It wasn't fair to string her along, _knowing_ that you were the one I needed."

_We can build a new tomorrow today  
Today, today, today…_

[Fades out]

**Voice-Over: Starring: Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, Jack Hotchner, J.J. Jareau, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Diana Reid, and Mrs. Strauss. **

_**Author's Note: YAY! Trailer! [If there are mistakes, I apologize] The songs I used for the trailer were "Speak in Tongues" by Placebo and "Dare You to Move" by Switchfoot. So, tell me what you think! Any title ideas come to mind? Reviews will be accounted for and appreciated!**_


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: It's back! This is the chapter before Derek comes up again and Spencer's mother will also been in the next chapter. Along with that there's a new story that will be posted either later today or tomorrow. Warning: This chapter is a little more emotional (A.K.A Spencer's nightmare) so bring tissues. :'[ Thanks for those who faved/reviewed/followed:**

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**twi-hard-twilight-addict**

**yumi-san 29**

**topazflowerxox**

"_What the hell did you just say?"_

_Undertones laced with poison._

"_I said, I'm leaving you!"_

"_Really, now?"_

_One step forward, two steps back._

"_Yes."_

_Another step._

_A wall._

"_You know __**goddam**__ well I that I won't let you-"_

"_I …I can't do this anymore—[smack]"_

_Chocolate orbs threatening to spill tears. A handprint flushed red appeared on his left cheek. He gently touched it, winced, then pulled back._

"_Can't do what? __**Huh**__? Can't do what, Spencer?" He was now towering over Spencer, one hand holding both of his wrists, "I come home after work to find you packing the shit __**I**__ gave you! Tell me this Spencer, where the __**fuck**__ are you going to go!"_

_Words slipped past his lips, but weren't heard. Another large hand held his jaw. There would definetly be bruises to cover up._

"_Speak __**up**__, baby!" _

"_I'll go to Derek's."_

"_Do you really think that sonofabitch is going to protect you? Spencer, I love you!"_

_Spencer was forced into a kiss. He swallowed bile that rose with ferocity. He could taste something coppery. Once the kiss was over, he was given a chance to breathe._

"_You're fucking with him, aren't you?"  
Spencer shook his head, eyes wide. _

"_No…I wouldn't cheat on you," Spencer gasped when he was grabbed by hair and slammed back into the wall._

_He heard the distinct sound of something unzipping…_

_No, no, no, no…please…_

"_P-please…don't…"  
His pants and boxers were removed and his legs were placed around his abuser's waist. _

_He felt something probe at his backside. His eyes widened as he screamed, clawing at the muscular form trying to force themselves in, __**dry**__. He couldn't see past his tears. The voice that held so much knowledge and control was weak, small, begging for mercy. _

"_No! No...Please!" _

"No!"

"Spencer? Baby? What's wrong?"

Spencer opened his eyes. He felt around, his was in a bed…there was something warm and lean wrapped around his waist. Looking beside him and saw his b—boyfriend giving him a worried look. His eyebrows were furrowed and a frown was settled on his face. His eyes held so much concern and love. Spencer couldn't take the pent up emotions he was feeling. _It felt so real. _He threw himself at Aaron, coiling his whole body around him, and cried…he cried until his throat was raw…he cried until his eyes were swollen…he cried as he was comforted with soothing rubs on his spine, soft kisses on his face, and whispers of love.

"Shh…hey, look at me."

Spencer gave his attention while interlacing their fingers.

"I don't like to see you so upset. But, you'll never get past these nightmares if you keep shutting yourself up. I'm not forcing you…I'm just asking. Do you want to talk about it?"

"…Aaron…I…I just…"

"Take your time…"

Spencer cuddled closer and took a deep breath. _You can do this…_

"I…had dream about my ex…Michael," his voice cracked, Aaron just kissed his forehead, "T-the dream was about…one of our arguments. It started when he left to go to work. I had gathered up enough courage to pack my things…I wanted to leave," Spencer stared off into space as he remembered the day, vividly, while tracing invisible patterns on Aaron's bare chest, "I had suffered enough and thought, stupidly, that he would accept my decision. He got mad and said I wasn't going to leave…then I brought up…Derek…he asked if I was cheating. I said I wasn't, but he didn't believe me a-and h-he…he…" Spencer closed his eyes; tears began to form at the memory. The excruciating pain, the screaming, Michael's hands all over him, and when it was over he was beaten...brutally.

Aaron wiped his tears. Even though it was three in the morning, he would stay up until the sun came up if he had to in order to make Spencer feel better.

"I just want it to go away Aaron."

Aaron gave a soft smile, "I know."

Spencer then pushed Aaron on his back and straddled his hips. Aaron noticed a cloud of want and love over those big brown eyes. Spencer's face was inches away.

"Make love to me."

Aaron's eyes widened. _What did he just say? _That statement should not have turned him on as much as it did.

"Spencer-"

"I don't want to hurt anymore."  
Aaron felt tears drip onto his face.

"Spencer, baby, I-not now-"

He was reaching for him, but was immediately rejected. Spencer looked like he'd been slapped in the face. He hopped off the bed and went into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Aaron followed and turned the knob. Locked.

_Damn it._ "Spencer-"

"Go away!"

"I'm not leaving until you come out. I wasn't trying to get you upset."

"I get it Aaron! You don't want me!"

"Yes, I do! Open the door…please?"

Silence. Minutes passed. Aaron gave up and sat on the bed, running his fingers through his hair and staring at the clock. It was 4:05 when he heard the bathroom door open. He didn't have to turn around. The bed dipped, but he wasn't touched. Aaron spoke first.

"I'm sorry."

Silence.

"It's not that I don't want to make love to you. I just want to take it slow. I told you that I don't want to force you into anything…"

"You're not forcing me. I want to-"

Aaron turned around and gently titled his face.

"You only want to because you want to forget, but us having sex isn't going to make the pain go away. You know that. If we're going to do this right, I want you to be happy and ready," he put a strand of hair behind Spencer's ear, "And you're not ready, baby."

Spencer sighed as Hotch gave him another kiss.

The moment was shattered when Jack came bouncing into the room with his stuffed animal and starting jumping on the bed, "Daddy! Daddy! Let's make breakfast."

The two men chuckled, "Jack, it's four in the morning."

"Aww Daddy, but I want chocolate chip pancakes."

Jack stopped bouncing and began pouting, "My stomach is growling at me." As if on cue, Jack's stomach grumbled. Spencer smiled and ruffled the child's hair.

"Come on, Aaron, let the kid eat."

"Yeah!"

Aaron had the two people he cared most about voting against him, "Alright."

"Yes!"

Jack bounced off the bed and zoomed towards the kitchen. Spencer shook his head chuckling, "That kid is something else. Come on old man, we have a child to feed." Spencer got up, hands out to pull up his boyfriend. Aaron playfully groaned in agony as he was lifted to his feet and dragged to the kitchen.

As he watched his child and Spencer make pancakes his eyes scanned around the room, on the fridge was a picture of what used to be: His wife, child, and him. Smiling. Happy. He felt a pang of guilt. He was moving on with his life while his wife's was cut short. But he pushed those thoughts away.

_She'd be happy for me. _

Jack, meanwhile, flicked pancake batter at Spencer's face with an, "Oops," before running away with Spencer on his heels.

"Come back here! You are so going to get it!"  
He grabbed the child and began mercilessly tickling him.

Hotch smirked.

_Yeah, she'd definitely be happy.  
_

**Author's Note: A nice ending for the chapter, bittersweet. And I know, some of you may be thinking "WTF, Spencer and Hotch need to hop into bed! Now!" We'll get to that. *crosses heart* So, be patient and review please! Any and all questions, comments, or ideas were be appreciated and taken into account. Thanks! :D**


	13. Chapter 12

_Authors note: Yeah, this chapter is a lot shorter than the past chapters, but the next chapter will back track from this one. Thank you all who reviewed/faved/followed. You all have been so supportive and patient. ^_^_

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_(If I skipped any of you, I apologize)_

_Well, here we go._

Spencer needed to get out the house. Why Aaron thought that getting groceries at seven in the morning on a rainy Sunday was a good idea?-Spencer will never know. So here he was-

"Spencer I want that cereal!"

-with Jack of course-

"I can't reach it!"

-who was now struggling over a box of Rice Krispy that the placed on the top shelf.

Spencer grabbed the box and handed to the young boy who threw it in the cart.

"I think we're all set with groceries." yawned Spencer.

"I want to push the cart. We have to hurry up or else the lines will get too long and we'll be stuck in the store!" Jack exclaimed as he grabbed the cart and started racing down the aisles.

Spencer chuckled to himself. It was a very low probability that anyone would be out so early getting groceries on a Sunday. He'll let Jack have his fun. When he finally reached Jack he caught him dropping in a handful chocolate candy bars into the cart.

"Jack, do we need all of those candy bars?" Spencer began putting the items up for the cashier.

"Yes. They are for snack."

"I thought that's what the fruit was for?"

Jack shook his head in disgust, "Nah, chocolate is way better."

"Alright, if you insist."

Jack mouthed a "yes!" and helped Spencer put up the laser few items and waited for Spencer to pay.

Once that was done they started bagging the items and then headed to the car. Spencer warned Jack to be careful with the eggs. Jack wasn't paying attention and dropped the bag.

"Oops. I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"It's okay Jack," Spencer ruffled his hair, "Luckily they were on sale so we can go back and get another carton okay?"

Jack nodded and they both ran back into the store. As He watched Jack get the eggs from a short distance he could've sworn he heard his name being called. Spencer shrugged it off but when he heard it again he whipped his head around-

"Derek?"

Jack was tugging at his shirt. He didn't like the sadness and slight anger he saw flash in Spencer's eyes. When he followed the direction Spencer was looking at he beamed.

"Uncle Derek!"  
"Whassup, little man!"  
Derek spun the boy around and gently placed him back down. He bent slightly to Jack's level.  
"I haven't seen you in a long time. What are you doing here so early?"  
"I'm getting eggs. I...dropped the ones we bought earlier." A blush if embarrassment flushed his cheeks.  
"That's okay. Everyone makes mistakes. I can pay for them."  
"Really?"  
"Of course."  
Jack ran towards Spencer, "Guess what? Uncle Derek said he'd pay for the eggs!"  
Spencer bit his lip. Derek was staring directly at him. The doctor took in his ex-boyfriend. He was wearing a gray shirt sleeve shirt that hugged his muscles and the dark jeans he was wearing sagged a bit at the waist. His holster peeked out from underneath the shirt.

When they were finally close enough Spencer throat was dry.

"Hello Spencer." Spencer hated how his voice still made him shiver.

"H-hi Derek."

Jack felt a bit out of place. Why were they looking at each other like that? He was very confused.

"It's nice to see you."

"I-it's been awhile, I guess." Spencer ran his fingers through his hair, "We better get going Jack." He took the child's hand and walked off before Derek could say anything else. He shook off his nerves and they were back at the car in matter of minutes. Jack was buckled in. Spencer was putting the cart back. The rain pouring. But he didn't feel water hit his skin. What? An umbrella was held up for him and he turned around.

"Oh. It's just you. You almost scared me."  
Derek shook his head.  
"Didn't you watch the weather?" Derek smirked.  
"No. I was...busy." Spencer hugged himself and began walking back to the car.  
"A 'thank you' would be nice."  
"Thank you."  
"You rushed to the cashier so fast I couldn't catch up to. I was going to pay for the food."  
"Thanks for the offer but I have enough money. It was only 4 dollars."  
"4 dollars goes a long way."  
Spencer said and did nothing. He finally reached the car, but Derek was blocking the driver's side door.  
"We need to talk."  
That tone. Spencer winced. He should've seen this coming. After months of avoiding this exact moment he forced into it. It was on full throttle with no hints of braking.  
"Derek it's raining and I need to get back home."  
"Then when, Spence. You've been avoiding me for the past six months!"  
Derek folded the umbrella an crossed his arms.  
"What is there to talk about? We broke up!" Spencer clenched his fists, "I don't even know if we were together in the first place."  
"We were figuring things out."  
The rain wasn't cooling down his anger, Spencer was full on mad. Derek just doesn't get it.  
"Okay. Fine. But everything's figured out, right? I'm not with you."  
"Pretty boy-"  
"Don't. Call me that." Spencer hissed.  
Derek's eyes widened but then softened. It was expected. He lost the privilege to use that nickname.  
"Spencer, I'm not here to hurt you."  
"It's too late for that don't you think?"  
Spencer felt tears mix with the rain.

Meanwhile Jack was watching the whole scene unfold. He couldn't hear what was said but he inferred that whatever the conversation was about, neither was happy.

"I told you about what I went through. I opened myself up to you. I let you see the scars and bruises. I submitted to you-" He let out a dry laugh, "I trusted you and you took that and spat on it by fucking with some girl you met at a club."  
"I was drunk-!"  
"I was stupid. To think that our relationship was serious..."  
Derek looked crushed. His own eyes were pink. He grasped Spencer's chin. Spencer was pushing at his cold, wet chest, but Derek stayed still. Solid as a rock.  
"So this is my punishment?"  
The brunette's lip quivered. He wanted to slap him. He wanted to-  
"If anything I'm punishing myself, Derek! I put myself through Hell, waiting for you! Now, six months later you want to just appear out of fucking nowhere and try to sooth your own conscience!"  
"I just want to know where we stand. I haven't forgotten about you-about us."  
Spencer scoffed.  
"I fucked up. I fucked up bad, but don't cut me out!" Derek kissed Spencer's forehead and then his left cheek.  
"I'm sorry...I need you...don't stay mad at me. Please?"  
Derek swiped his thumbs across the genius's cheeks. Spencer slipped through Derek's grasp and hopped into the car. As he sped off, he looked at Derek's form getting smaller and smaller. His head towards the sky. He choked a sob and quickly wiped his tears. Jack just frowned. He couldn't comfort Spencer like he wanted to. He didn't understand it.

What happened? Could he make it better?

_Authors Note: I wonder what Jack has in mind? Hmm... Tell me what you all think if this chapter. Reviews are appreciated! :) thank you._


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